Taking It Back
by Das Lieblingsfach
Summary: After the meeting at Scandals, Dave and Kurt attempt a friendship, much to the behest of everything around them. Kurtofsky primary , Klaine slight , Seblaine. Rating likely to rise.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**- It's hard to know exactly what to write in these. I do know that I should point out that his story sort of deviates from the previously established canon, just in so much that it was implied, in 3x05, that Dave and Kurt have had some sort of correspondence since Prom Queen. In this, they haven't, and it wasn't intentional, it was just the way the chapter developed as I wrote it.

But yes, this is going to hopefully be a multichaptered story in which I write out how I think the remainder of Kurt's senior year should pan out. Canon will be extremely flimsy from here on out.

**Disclaimer- **Not mine.

* * *

><p>It had gotten to the point where Kurt was sure that he had subconsciously engaged in a staring contest with his Word Processor. He was losing, of course, given that word documents and computer monitors didn't have eyes to blink.<p>

So, he supposed, he could add that on to the list of things he failed to be productive at this evening, the most important of these being his campaign speech. This was the sole reason, in fact, that he had even brought up the word document in the first place. His blank staring was a product of not knowing what in the world one says to a group of homophobic, closed-minded high school kids from Ohio to convince them to vote for a well-dressed, completely out and proud gay kid as their class president.

'They did elect me Prom Queen,' he reluctantly reminded himself, not sure if that was supposed to be an encouraging fact or the exact opposite.

It was something, anyway.

A clumsy knock on the door, which could only be Finn's, brought him out of his computer trance. His return to consciousness allowed him to be proud of his stepbrother for finally remembering to knock and await a response before barging in.

"It's open," Kurt acknowledged, brushing away his own snarky reminder that the door was technically _always _open. Burt had made sure there were no locks on either of the boys' doors once they both started dating regularly.

"Hey," Finn sort of mumbled as he stumbled in.

The two of them more or less ignored each other while Finn wandered aimlessly around, occasionally scrounging through things and Kurt tried adding a few additional paragraphs, all of which he deleted.

"You wouldn't be looking for something, would you?" Kurt threw over his shoulder, unable to stand the sound of Finn's rather distracting search.

"Yeah, I am, actually. You haven't seen my box collection of zombie movies, have you?"

He couldn't help an eye roll and sigh in response, but only because he was certain Finn wouldn't hear or see.

"Really, Finn? You thought _that_ would somehow make its way into my room?"

"I don't know, dude. I can't find it anywhere else. I'm getting a little desperate."

"Yes, _well_," he sighed, this time with no pretense of hiding it. "As crucial as I'm sure this mission is, I can assure you your box set is most definitely not in here and I'm trying to work on something so maybe you could go-"

"Oh wait, shit…" Finn suddenly exclaimed as though he were not even aware Kurt had been talking. "I think I leant it to Karofsky like 5 months ago…"

The mention of his name brought the memory of their meeting at Scandals, naught but two weeks ago, back to the forefront of Kurt's mind. Truthfully, it never fully left his thoughts. On the whole, it was such a surreally pleasant experience that he hadn't fully gotten over the fact that it had happened at all. He _still _wasn't entirely convinced that the young man with a surprisingly nice smile and inconspicuous baseball cap, professing himself to be a 'bear cub', was the same Dave Karofsky that used to hate all things effeminate and remotely _gay_.

"Speaking of which, you won't believe who I ran into recently."

Kurt had said it not really thinking. He had been sort of itching to tell _someone_, but given his regrettable distance with Mercedes, his current anonymity with Rachel and his somewhat inexplicable discomfort with even suggesting Dave was there to Blaine, he was completely bereft of any confidant at all. Besides, he couldn't tell anyone the juiciest and most ironic part of it all- that it was a _gay bar _that they had crossed paths in.

He realized his mistake almost immediately after uttering the words, but Finn's curious expression seemed to say that he was interested and not backing down from finding out anytime soon. Besides, ignoring him or making up some lie would probably seem more suspicious.

"Dave, of course." Kurt explained, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Really? Where?"

Kurt bit his lip. "Blaine and I were just out and about. Ran into him by chance, you know how it goes."

Finn didn't seem entirely satisfied with the story and Kurt got that somewhat familiar churn of dread in his stomach when he began to suspect that Finn was far more insightful than he appeared.

So he promptly moved the topic along.

"He transferred schools, you know."

Finn shrugged. "Yeah, because he didn't want anyone to know."

Kurt suddenly felt what he could have sworn was his heart leaping into his throat.

"To know what…?"

"Just about his past," Finn shrugged, commencing to haphazardly look through Kurt's things again, as if the whole epiphany about Dave probably having his box set had completely escaped him. "The bullying and stuff. He felt like he'd dug himself too deep at McKinley and wanted a fresh start somewhere else. 'Figured that would make you pretty happy."

Kurt wasn't entirely sure who Finn was referring to in that last sentence, but the possibility that Dave had left sincerely thinking that Kurt would prefer it made him feel oddly uneasy.

"I forgave him," he felt obligated to mention. "There's no bad blood between us anymore. I would have had no problem with him staying."

If he was honest, he sort of would have _preferred _for him to stay. Burt commonly pointed out that Kurt had his mother's (and arguably his father's) tendency to want to coddle and protect people and he couldn't say it was entirely untrue, as much as he wished it was otherwise. He had legitimately wanted to help Dave since their talk in Figgins' office back in May, but he probably would have been able to let it go without much disappointment if he hadn't seen the boy break down and cry in front of him in the hallway naught but a few weeks later.

From the time of that tearful apology, the slight interest Kurt had taken in Dave's well-being had transformed into a need to save him. He wanted to start PFLAG and show him all he knew. He wanted to educate him, to reassure him it was okay to come out and own who he was.

So when they finally crossed paths and the boy who had last been seen fleeing from his prom, professing that he wasn't ready to make that leap, was smiling and laughing at a _gay bar_, Kurt couldn't help but feel a little indignant. Disappointed, even. Hell, Dave knew more about gay lifestyles than _he _did at this point. Worse still, he had completely shot down Kurt's belief that he needed to publicly come out to be happy. Dave was still more or less in the closet, but he had finally admitted the truth to himself and had a place where he could revel in it without being judged and that seemed to be enough for him.

Kurt could have slapped him for proving him so wrong. Instead, however, all he could do was sigh and smile and be happy for the progress he had made. Lo and behold, Dave had taught _him. _

"That's cool," was Finn's preoccupied response. Kurt couldn't really bring himself to care that his stepbrother obviously wasn't listening to him at all, as his mind had successfully drifted back to that meeting at the gay bar and wasn't leaving any time soon.

It occurred to him then that he had been in such a snit about Blaine's activity with Sebastian he completely forgot to get some kind of contact information from Dave. They really did need to keep in touch, after all. If Kurt couldn't help him come to terms, then he could _at least _be a supportive acquaintance, someone to just talk to about things or whatever.

"How did you know all of that?" he asked Finn. Clearly he was more in tune with comings and goings of Dave's life than Kurt was. Before running into him at the bar, his sole source of information had been catching a snippet of Santana's conversation with Beiste in the choir room wherein she explained that Dave had transferred to Shawnee High and that's why he wasn't at tryouts. Beiste seemed none too happy to lose one of her best players, and perhaps more so since Sam was gone as well.

"We're facebook friends. We IM on there occasionally."

Kurt just nodded, trying not to seem too intrigued. Finn then quickly lost interest in his search and sort of sauntered out of the room without a good-bye.

Kurt really couldn't bring himself to care too much about this, distracted as he was with opening a tab for Facebook.

* * *

><p>He couldn't help but smile when Blaine was prompt with whipping out his wallet, still eager to pay for everything before Kurt could beat him to it. Sometimes Kurt would dig in his bag a little, hoping to see his boyfriend sweat to not let one cent of his even touch the counter.<p>

It was just all very chivalrous and endearing, no less so than the first day Blaine had offered.

Pleased, Kurt grabbed his macchiato and allowed his boyfriend to follow him to their special table, the one near the front window that was not too close to the doors of the café.

"How's that campaign speech coming?" Blaine asked as they had a seat. Kurt couldn't help but smile at the fact that he had already guessed his boyfriend was itching to talk about it.

"Not great, actually," he admitted. "I just can't think of anything to say. Does that come as a surprise?"

"Not really," Blaine chuckled, taking a sip of his latte.

Kurt frowned a little at Blaine's choice of response but decided that he wasn't really thinking about what he was saying or how best to word it. Truthfully, it hadn't escaped Kurt's notice that Blaine was a bit more distracted and distant lately. Occasionally he would let himself get a little paranoid, but the reminder that the West Side Story performances were rapidly approaching gave him a bit comfort in that Blaine was probably just preoccupied.

And, of course, now was hardly the opportune time to over think things.

"I'm glad to be here with you," Kurt mentioned, smiling warmly. "It's nice to get out of my stuffy room and enjoy my boyfriend's company every now and then."

His choice of phrase was a bit more literal than he let on. Due to the fact that Kurt had been gradually growing apart from the girls he used to hang out with, for whatever reason, he really did rely on Blaine more these days to keep him entertained and to listen to his gossip. Being the good boyfriend that he was, he performed both of these jobs without complaint.

And despite what had gone down with them two weeks prior, Kurt was still as thankful to have him as he was when they first got together.

Blaine returned Kurt's smile and squeezed his hand underneath the table.

"You really don't have to thank me, Kurt. I get just as much, if not more pleasure out of it than you do."

Kurt nodded, taking perhaps more solace in that statement than was warranted. He really couldn't care, though. The past few weeks had been rather rough for their relationship and it was nice to get confirmation that his presence was still as appreciated as before.

It was enough, in fact, to give him the strength to mention something to Blaine he had formerly been convinced he shouldn't speak a word of.

"I need to tell you something," he said rather excitedly. Blaine just raised his eyebrows in response, urging him to do so.

He hesitated only a moment, wondering if this was going to pan out to be wise choice when it was all said and done. He quickly reminded himself that the boy sitting across from him was not only his best friend, he was his boyfriend and there should be no reason to be afraid to tell him things, especially when one topic in particular is just dying to be hashed out.

Blaine _could_, potentially, understand the situation better than anyone and he was really the only remotely safe person to discuss it with.

So Kurt went ahead, despite it all.

"That night we were at Scandals…do you remember when I was sitting at the bar chatting with that guy?"

Blaine sort of narrowed his eyes in confusion. "You were talking with someone?"

"Yes," he replied, resisting the urge to point out that he might have noticed, were he not stumbling around drunkenly with Sebastian. "And you'll never guess who it was."

He paused for effect.

"David."

Blaine blinked his eyes, giving him a double-take.

"David…? As in _Karofsky_?"

Kurt just nodded, a little bemused grin plastered to his face as prepared to engage in some juicy discussion about Dave's progress from scared guy at the prom to 'bear cub'.

Blaine, on the other hand, did not seem so keen.

"Why didn't you tell me, Kurt?" he asked, unpleasantly taken-back. "Did he try something on you?"

Kurt could only sigh in response, knowing that in some part of himself he had expected Blaine to react this way.

"No. I've told you already, I've forgiven him, and if you would have let me finish my story I _could_ have told you that he's changed a lot since prom."

Blaine sat back, looking a bit indignant.

"Well, clearly, if he's hanging out in gay bars," he muttered into his coffee cup.

"We can just forget about it. I thought maybe it could have been a little gossipy thing we could chat about, but I forget you're not Rachel or Mercedes."

"I just want you to be safe, Kurt," Blaine explained, somewhat pleadingly. "If you're going to be friends with this guy or…whatever, I just want you to keep in mind what he did to you a year ago. Can you really trust him?"

On the whole, the conversation was leaving a terrible taste in his mouth and putting him off his coffee entirely. Blaine had an admittedly frustrating tendency to preach and lecture about things he really knew nothing about, and if there was something he was completely ignorant of in this situation, it was Dave and the progress he had made. Frankly, Kurt didn't want to be judged for anything having to do with Dave and already he was cursing himself for having brought him up at all in present company.

"Let's just drop it," he said, trying to play it off casual.

Blaine thankfully agreed to not make any more frustrating comments about the issue and the two of them then decided to get their minds off the awkward exchange by going shopping.

The tension from that moment never fully left them, however, and Kurt found this to be especially unnerving.

* * *

><p>That evening found Kurt, once again, staring at the godforsaken word document with a grand total of two paragraphs decorating its stark whiteness.<p>

This time, however, he was lounging on his bed with 'Say Yes To The Dress' on in front of him for white noise and an excuse to look away every now and then from the doomed speech. He hoped the distraction would keep him from feeling too hopeless or discouraged.

Really, it was just preventing him from having to write at all, because the more he attempted to get something on the paper, the less inclined he felt to even try.

With that in mind, he decided to throw his better judgment to the wind and open his internet browser. It was a little silly, he thought, to continue deluding himself about getting any writing done tonight anyway.

He had basically forgotten about all of the Dave Karofsky drama that had randomly reared its ugly head yesterday and earlier today, so when he saw the notification indicating that his friend request had been accepted, he felt a little pleasant jolt of surprise. What was more, said new facebook friend had already sent him an IM.

'_hey_. _=)'_ it read.

Kurt couldn't help himself from being amused that Dave Karofsky, of all people, was IMing him with smiley emoticons. It was still a little weirdly surreal.

'_Hi there_.' he typed back, waiting a few moments before adding, '_Thank you for granting me the honor of being your FB friend._

While he waited for a reply, Kurt opened a tab to browse the Vogue Fall Fashion Guide. It wasn't long, however, before the telling 'bloop' rang out again.

'_eh, i think i can lower my standards a little 4 u'_

'Cheeky,' Kurt thought with a grin.

'_Can you? That's so generous!' _Somehow he knew now the sarcasm wouldn't be lost on Dave. '_So what has you so bored as to condescend to chat with me?' _

He felt it was a necessary question, one he wanted to get out of the way before their conversation fizzled out or Dave left to go do something or any of the other factors that ended internet chats came into play.

'_hmwk's done. i guess i could do the dishes like dad asked but i thought talking 2 u might b a little less boring' _

'_And tedious, I'd imagine.' _

'_yep_.' And there was a pause before Dave added, '_so wat about u?' _

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. '_What about me?'_

'_wat r u doing? or not doing, as the case may be lol'_

He laughed at that, amused that Dave could sense his procrastination through the instant messenger.

'_I am most definitely not procrastinating on writing my campaign speech for class president elections.' _

'_wow' _

'_So far I've gotten one sentence past my progress from yesterday and now I'm just staring at it, completely uninspired.' _

'_i bet that little paper clip bastard has already popped up 2 mock u further' _

'_Thankfully, no,' _he typed back, chuckling. _'My Word Processor doesn't have the demon paper clip from hell application.' _

'_well that makes 1 of us'_

'_But seriously,' _he began, sincerely hoping that his plea might not go unnoticed and Dave might have some magical words of wisdom to rectify his complete lack of inspiration. '_Wtf do I write now? How the hell do I convince closed-minded teenagers from Ohio that a flamboyant, well-dressed gay kid should be their class president?' _

'_idk, the same way all politicians get into office i guess'_

'_Do you mean lie out of my ass?'_

'_im sure the other candidates are doing it.'_

He nodded, as if Dave would somehow see. '_Well, Brittany's in the lead and so far her most popular campaign promise has been to go topless every Tuesday. Somehow, I think she's being entirely sincere.'_

'_lol, that sounds like her'_

Kurt smiled at that, before Dave added an additional message a few moments later.

'_i guess trying to match & 1 up that promise is out of the question'_

He was a bit taken back by the implication at first, but eventually cackled at the very thought of trying to appeal to the student body of McKinley with his exposed, scrawny torso.

'_It might come as a surprise, but I don't have voluptuous breasts, David.' _

'_i do. want me to volunteer them up 4 u?' _

Kurt just shook his head and sighed, still with an immovable grin plastered on his face that he wasn't entirely aware of.

'_You're very kind to offer up the moobs you may or may not have, but I'd like to think I can come up with something that doesn't involve whoring anyone out.'_

'_i dont know dude. most of the kids at that school r pretty stupid. and horny.'_

'_This is true.' _

'_maybe just say youll pay them all 100 each if they elect u'_

'_That's bribery.'_

'_so? britanys is indecent exposure'_

Kurt scoffed out a laugh.

'_It's amazing what you can get away with when you're a decidedly "hot" young blonde teenage girl.'_

'_well i dont know dude. i mean those douches elected you prom queen right?'_

'Yes they did,' he thought to himself, a bit tickled they'd had the same thought.

'_Maybe it was because they thought we made a lovely royal couple.'_

'_sorry. if i knew we were such good eye candy i would have stayed and been ur running mate'_

'_Yeah, well, too bad you abandoned us.'_

Kurt regretted having typed it shortly after he pressed the enter key and it was too late. Even if Dave got the implication that he was trying to joke, he was certain it would still hit a nerve somewhere.

'_im really sorry, i just didnt know what else to do u know?'_

'_It's really okay,' _Kurt typed quickly. '_I understand. Besides, it seems to have had a positive effect on you, so that's nothing to scoff at. I guess if I'm totally honest I just sort of wish I could have helped you through this somehow.'_

'_why?'_

He paused, his fingers hovering over the keys. Certainly he had answer to this, didn't he? It seemed as though it should have been one of those that came to him rather quickly and was completely rational.

Why did he want to help Dave? He didn't exactly owe him anything, but he could never forgive himself for just letting the poor guy stumble confusedly around the homosexual world without any help or advice at all.

'_My ego, probably,' _he finally decided on, despite it not really being a complete answer. '_Thinking I was some sort of gay expert. That whole week after we ran into each other pretty much shot that belief to hell. Anyway, you seem to know more than I do, at least about bears and their cubs, and you've apparently reached a comfortable place for yourself all on your own. That's pretty impressive, David. You never really needed me.' _

'_i dont really agree with that, i mean, if it werent 4 u who knows where id be now'_

Kurt's smile widened a little, unashamedly glad to know he felt that way.

'_Well, I think it's safe to say we've both managed to teach each other a thing or two. =)'_

Normally he would have never used an emoticon of any kind, but he felt it was both appropriate and somewhat necessary for the circumstances.

'_yeah, definitely. =)'_

With the conversation having slowed down, Kurt managed to pull his attention away from the chat box long enough to see it was 7:30 and way past the time he usually got started on dinner. It was too late to have it ready by the time Burt got home, but it was certainly a situation of better late than never.

'_Crap, I better go make dinner so it's ready when Dad gets home.'_

'_ok i better go 2. gotta get some chores and stuff done'_

Kurt bit his lip hesitantly before typing out his next response, knowing full-well that this alone might seal their fate as far as a future friendship was concerned, for better or for worse.

'_Will you be on tomorrow?' _

'_yeah most likely. u wouldn't want 2 do this again would u?'_

'_Hmmm…guess you'll have to wait and see. ;)' _

Kurt knew there was a part of him that would never really forgive himself for choosing to use a winky-face emoticon, of all things_. _Had Mercedes known she would have flipped her lid and reminded him of all the times he made fun of her for being kitschy with her liberal use of them. But he really didn't care. Interaction with Dave was proving to be a lot more comfortable and laidback than he would have ever imagined. Somehow using the emoticons, however silly they might have been, felt almost like a privilege- a privilege, that is, of chatting with someone he felt no urge to impress.

'_lol ok ill be looking forward 2 it'_

'_Goodnight, David.'_

'_night'_

Kurt had a semi-permanent grin stuck on his face throughout the entirety of his preparation of dinner. It was apparently so noticeable even Finn pointed it out, audibly wondering why his stepbrother was smiling so much. Kurt brushed him off with an explanation that involved watching some standup earlier and having the jokes still stuck in his head, which seemed to pacify him enough to stop asking about it.

Really, though, Kurt knew he was just pleased to be interacting so well with someone who had been so bad off 6 months ago. It was nice to be reminded of the fact that life had gotten better for him, that he was feeling more secure with himself and comfortable enough to joke around- smile even.

And really, Kurt thought, it was good that Dave was able to smile so warmly and sincerely now. It really was quite flattering and so much more appealing than those tight-jawed frowns he used to wear a year ago, presumably to scare people off from suspecting him of being gay.

On the whole, he liked the new Dave Karofsky quite a bit and was looking forward to pursuing a friendship. Admittedly, it would be nice to have someone to talk to that wasn't Blaine or Finn, the latter of whom was never really listening anyway.

Kurt was so excited by these prospects that he allowed himself to overlook some of the more negative possibilities that began to nag in the back of his mind. Really though, they were just talking over Facebook and no matter what Blaine or anyone else said, there couldn't have been anything more harmless than that.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine had long ago stopped rolling around the question in his head of whether or not this was _right_. He was only visiting Dalton a few times week, just to watch Warbler performances and keep tabs on his old friends. There was absolutely nothing wrong or questionable about that. After all, he had made the sacrifice for Kurt to transfer to McKinley and, while he did like it there, he missed his old prep school extremely. Surely he was entitled to a few visits, at least.

It just got slightly questionable when Sebastian came into the picture. If Blaine was honest, Sebastian came into the picture quite often. He knew that Kurt wouldn't feel entirely comfortable with the two of them pursuing a friendship, one that he actually wasn't telling Kurt about at all, but then again, he didn't feel entirely comfortable with the idea of Kurt talking to his old tormentor and defending him as though he'd never harm a fly.

But he couldn't tell his boyfriend what to do and vice-versa. Nevertheless, he allowed that fact to somewhat validate his own option to continue visiting Dalton under what was murky morality at best.

For a while, the visits were fairly routine and inarguably innocent. He and Sebastian would linger around each other pretty much the whole time, but it was limited to watching the Warblers perform, having coffee, chatting, and that was it. Eventually, however, Sebastian began inviting Blaine back to the common room for chess, which gradually led to invitations into his dorm room where it was quieter.

If Blaine at any point felt like acquiescing to these requests wasn't a good idea, he immediately quashed those thoughts. To disagree would certainly be even more suspicious, implying that there was some sort of tension between them that he had to escape. Obviously, that wasn't the situation- it couldn't be the situation. If he and Sebastian were going to be friends, it needed to be okay for them to hang out in private.

So he agreed to these offers without hesitation and spent most of their time together trying to avoid Sebastian's sharp green eyes from meeting with his.

"You seem a little on edge today," Sebastian pointed out one afternoon while the two of them sat playing chess near the dorm room window. The low sunlight of the late autumnal afternoon fell across the board and the chess pieces, casting rather large, majestic shadows across the bed and floor.

"I guess I am," Blaine replied with a chuckle, assuming Sebastian had picked up rather quickly on several of the factors weighing heavily in his mind.

"Don't be. We're supposed to be relaxing and having fun right now, aren't we?"

Blaine's gaze drifted to his lap. Before he could come up with some kind of reply, Sebastian spoke again.

"And don't think I haven't noticed you avoiding eye-contact with me. You haven't looked me in the eye in, like, a week."

The natural response for Blaine was to do just that, and when he did look up and make the contact that was requested he was immediately reminded why it was something he been keeping himself from doing.

From the day they met, Sebastian's gaze had been anything but unnoticeable. It had gotten Blaine's attention almost immediately, the way it stuck on him without ever straying and ravished him completely. It also seemed to have the power to pry into his thoughts, to read what he was feeling and thinking without ever needing to ask.

It both fascinated and terrified him.

"What's wrong?" Sebastian asked after a time, though the slight smirk on his face seemed to indicate he was already well aware of the answer.

Blaine faltered.

"Sebastian…please understand that I like you a lot and I really appreciate our friendship…"

"_But_…" Sebastian offered.

"But…I don't think this is right. I don't think we should be seeing each other like this."

Sebastian cocked his head. "Why not? There's nothing wrong with two friends playing chess."

"Yes, but Kurt doesn't know I've been meeting you like this and if he did, I don't think he'd be comfortable with it.

"So?" Sebastian chuckled. "Like I said, you're not doing anything wrong. You can't deny yourself friends just because your boyfriend is paranoid."

"No, I guess you're right…" Blaine agreed, clearly unconvinced.

"Of course, maybe it's not _Kurt _that's the problem here…"

Blaine both detested and appreciated Sebastian's gifted insight and he was torn between those two as he continued onward with his theory.

"Maybe it's _you_. Could it be that there _is _something scandalous about these meetings? Could it be something you're feeling that's letting you know hanging out with me isn't entirely innocent?"

Blaine faltered, once again endeavoring to look anywhere that wasn't in the general direction of the boy sitting across from him. Mentally, he continued to fight to convince himself that wasn't the case, but even he knew, in some dark recess that extended past his naiveté and delusion, that it very much _was_.

Before he could fully process what was happening, Sebastian had risen and come over to kneel down at his feet.

"We both knew this was inevitable," he whispered, sounding uncharacteristically soothing. "You can pretend for your own sake that this was always a purely innocent set up, but we both know better, don't we?"

Blaine couldn't keep back the tears that now pressed against his eyelids.

"I love Kurt," he insisted, not entirely sure who, out of the two of them, he was trying to convince. "I can't hurt him."

Sebastian's thumb caught his tears as well as his jaw, the latter of which he began to cradle in his hands.

"Kurt doesn't have to know."

And with that, Sebastian brought their mouths together. Blaine did not, could not, and would not fight him, for as wrong as the passionate lip locking was, it felt completely right- more so than any kiss he had ever shared with Kurt. Theirs were sweet and innocent and sparse, even when they were intimate.

Sebastian, on the other hand, kissed Blaine as if he couldn't get enough of him, as if he might disappear completely if he didn't express how much he utterly desired him. He kissed him like he had never been before, and he tasted like a bittersweet mixture of espresso and turbinado sugar.

Blaine didn't want to pull away when Sebastian kissed him. He didn't want to stop Sebastian's hands from undoing the buttons on his sweater, from pulling down the zipper on his khakis and he didn't want to stop his own hands from doing the same to Sebastian's clothes. He didn't want to stop when the both of them fell haphazardly on the bed, when they gripped and pulled and clawed at each other desperately as they made love.

Blaine didn't put an end to it until they were finished, lying in a cold sweat and Sebastian had gone to sleep. Only then did he rise, re-clothe himself and leave with a churning nausea in the pit of his stomach.

But at that point, it was already far too late.

* * *

><p>The cool, dry fall air wafted through his damp hair as he made his way across the Shawnee High football field, clutching his bag in one hand and his car keys in the other.<p>

"Good blocking out there, Karofsky!" Coach Gore called out to him from where he stood near the stands.

He waved slightly and yelled back, "Thanks, Coach!"

He didn't want to be smug about it, but he was pretty well aware of how good his performance had been during the just-finished game. He hadn't really realized how much of a distraction his paranoia had been until he had gone to a new school where no one really knew him and his reasons for being constantly on edge were completely removed. People were still homophobic assholes here, just as they would be at any small town high school, but to them he wasn't the douchebag who bullied a gay kid he had a crush on or the members of the Glee club that kid was in. He wasn't the guy who ran away from prom after being completely humiliated by his class.

Here, he was just Dave, the new guy who was tall and big and therefore a pretty good right guard. He made a point of being generally cordial and nice with people. He made sure to smile a lot more since it had been pointed out to him several times that he had a nice one and looked much more attractive when he did, and thus had already amounted a pretty close group of friends.

What was even better -and some undeserved gift from the gods, he was sure- was the fact that he hadn't entirely lost his roots to his old school. The person he had come to consider his closest friend over the summer now waited for him near the fence, her hands shoved in the pockets of her McKinley High letterman. He was looking forward to telling her about his ever so slowly blossoming friendship with another McKinley High student, one that he had been hoping to bond with for a criminally long time.

"God, finally!" Santana cried out. "I was starving over here. Dios, Karofsky, you take longer to shower than any girl I've ever known."

He linked arms with her and quickly pecked her cheek.

"Good to see you too, Tana. What did you think of me out there?"

She shrugged. "You've definitely gotten better."

He smiled, nodding his head. "Coach seems to think so too. I dunno, I just feel a lot better these days. I guess it's affecting my performance."

Santana pulled closer to him for warmth against the late November air as they made their way to his truck. Tucking her coat in tighter she said with a grin,

"And you're smiling like a damn fool every time I look at you. That's definitely the look of someone who's finally getting it regular. Are you meeting men aplenty at that hideous bar of yours?"

Dave laughed and shook his head. He was most definitely still a virgin and though men were fairly friendly to him at the bar, he had never so much as kissed one. There was only one boy he had run into at the bar, in fact, who could elicit such a response just by _chatting _with him. He intended to gush to Santana all about that and the fact that they were now talking over facebook IM during lunch. She was a much better conversation partner when she had food in her system anyway.

So he derailed the focus to her as they climbed into his truck and made their way to Sonic. She whined all the way about the latest Glee drama, which as of now included her leaving the club altogether and starting a new one with a group of wayward, but very talented girls. Dave made a joke about how distracted she must be with all of those short skirts and low cleavages around her all the time and she slapped him on the arm accordingly.

It was only when they were parked and waiting for their food that Santana lounged back on the seat and studied him with a smirk.

"But seriously," she said, poking him slightly in the side. "What has made you so stupidly happy lately? Never without that ridiculous smirk, I swear."

He laughed a little to himself and bit his bottom lip, readying himself to defy her misconceptions of just how ridiculous he could get.

"And now you're blushing!" she exclaimed. "Who is wielding this power over you?"

"I didn't tell you who I ran into at Scandals a week or two ago, did I?" he grinned.

She shook her head, looking intrigued.

"Kurt."

Santana began cackling hysterically. "I fucking knew it!"

"I didn't even tell you what happened!" he protested over her loud giggles.

"What? Did you slip him the _hot beef injection_?" she asked, mimicking the exact intonation of Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club.

He blushed deeper and shook his head insistently.

"God, no. We just talked for a bit, and it was _nice_. It was nice, Tana."

Santana 'oohed' facetiously, but Dave ignored her.

"I saw him when he first came in, but as usual he was sort of stuck on gel-cap's hip, so I kinda just laid low for a while. But then, to the surprise of fucking no one, gel-cap went off with the bar's resident whore and started dancing up on him. He just fucking left Kurt at the bar to grind his ass up against another guy. Right in front of him. What the fuck is that shit, really?"

"That's the world being cruel and unfair." Santana sighed.

"Yeah, well it worked out alright because I got an opportunity to talk to him alone. I just went for it, scared as fuck, knowing that he was bound to toss his drink in my face or ream me out or something. But none of that happened. He talked to me like I was an old friend or something. It was weird, but really nice. Later, I got a notification that he wanted to add me on facebook."

"Like, oh em gee, gurl-fran." Santana squealed mockingly.

Dave rolled his eyes. "You're not cute."

"Uh, no, I'm fucking adorable and you know it."

"_Anyway_, we've been talking pretty regularly on IM. It's nothing serious, just sort of…"

"Nice?" Santana offered tiredly.

Dave laughed. "Yeah. Nice."

"Listen, mi querido, as cute as it is that you're _this_ in love with ladypants, please don't get so carried away with this little crush that you forget he has a boyfriend- a boyfriend who is not like you by any stretch of the imagination."

"I know he has a boyfriend," Dave sighed, absentmindedly rubbing a spot on his steering wheel with his thumb. "And I'm not stupid enough to think he'd ever look at me the way he looks at _Bland_. It's just kinda nice that he gives me the time of day now, instead of not knowing I exist or wanting me to die or whatever."

"I mean, it's not like there aren't other cute boys out there who would fuck you. Kurt's just one guy out of many."

Dave nodded and put on a reassuring smile as he allowed their conversation to deviate to other completely unrelated things.

But he didn't agree with Santana's last claim and it did nothing to reassure him. Maybe to her Kurt was just another guy, a dime a dozen among effeminate, fashionable twinks. And, no, even with the growing knowledge Dave was getting of gay lifestyles and even with all the gay guys he had met in the span of time he had been at Scandals, he still could not say for sure that there was not a million other guys like Kurt. Maybe they lived in San Francisco or something, what did he know?

What he was sure of, however, was that Kurt enchanted him the way no other guy had before- not any of the cute guys at the bar that had flirted with him, not any of the secret crushes he'd nursed in the past (including one on Finn for a time, the knowledge of which he would take to his grave), not even any celebrities he fantasized about, like Ryan Gosling. Kurt had a certain way of moving and walking and talking- graceful and precise, and when he made his way down the hall he was like some sort of fashionable gazelle. Even when Dave caught sight of him in the admittedly grungy bar that Scandals is, lounging angrily with his lean legs crossed over one another, leather boots up to the knee and straw of his fruity clutched between his full lips, he somehow made the decorum and atmosphere around him that much more elegant, just by _being _there. Then again, Dave often had a hard time focusing on anything else when Kurt was in his vicinity, so it might have just been his eyes playing tricks on him.

But as gorgeous as Kurt was, it was that sweet and sour personality of his that had advanced Dave's feelings for him from frustrated lust to infatuation to something that he could only characterize as a really, really strong crush. Kurt was most definitely a bitch, snippy and accustom to getting his way, which Dave both admired and found endearing. Yet, he was also surprisingly forgiving and had a soft, caring side that, when accessed, was comfortingly warm. That was not to mention that he was intelligent and had wit so sharp it could cut glass.

Kurt was just everything and Dave knew somehow he wasn't ever going to meet anyone else quite like him. Maybe that was for the best.

But it didn't change the fact that he felt the almost irrepressible urge to punch Blaine in the face for even giving another guy the time of day when he had someone like Kurt. Dave knew that were Kurt his -in some odd, bizarro universe in which up was down- he would never, for a second, have to second guess Dave's love for him. The whole cheesy thing about only having eyes for one person? Yeah, that would definitely be the case, because no one else held a candle to Kurt in Dave's mind.

Kurt deserved someone to love him like that, Dave knew, but like he had assured Santana, he wasn't delusional enough to think that someone could ever be him.

They would only ever be friends, Dave was certain, but it was more than enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the fact that it was too early for any normal human being to be moving, despite the fact that it was unseasonably cold for late November and he knew it would be so much more comfortable to be nestled underneath his comforter, despite the fact that his Starbucks espresso hadn't really kicked in yet, Kurt was in a pretty fabulous mood as he walked across the school parking lot that Tuesday morning. It was the day before Thanksgiving vacation, after all, and he was looking forward to the family trip to Florida to see his aunt and uncle. If anyone needed a vacation where lying on a beach in 80 degree weather would be involved, it would be him. Better yet, Blaine was planning to come along too.

Kurt was sure there really was no better way to get his mind off all the crap that had gone down this month. So with the promise of the vacation dangling over his head like a carrot, Kurt knew he could power through today.

But as he entered the already crowded hallway and began making his way to first period, he started to realize that 'powering through the day' would be easier said than done. Maybe he hadn't noticed it before, but Brittany's posters had seemingly multiplied in number and most of them were being used to cover up those of her competitors. Thanks to that and clear evidence of _his _being just haphazardly torn off the walls, it seemed almost as if he wasn't running at all.

That didn't help his mood, but he tried to calm himself with the reassurance that he could certainly make more- maybe _tons _more and then do the same thing to her that she did to him.

Plus, of course, there was _Florida _in the near future.

Kurt could make this day his bitch, he was sure of it.

* * *

><p>'Fuck this day. Fuck this day with something hard and sandpaper-y.'<p>

It really didn't take long for Kurt's pipedream of getting through his school day unscathed to completely crumble around him. First there were the posters, then came Jacob with his stupid camera crew to inform him that he was the lowest in his blog's preliminary polls, then there was a visit at his locker from Brittany to try to console him with some sort of air-headed good sportsmanship speech. He made it quite clear to her that he didn't want to hear it. If Santana wanted to tear into him later for being too blunt with her, that was just fucking fine as he had no intention to listen to her either.

Glee Club only added to the utter crapestry of the day, as instead of letting them go home and start enjoying their much needed rest of the week off, Mr. Schue insisted they have an after school meeting about the upcoming month, which Rachel, of course, completely monopolized. Her voice sort of turned into a white noise after a while as well, and Kurt just sort of surveyed her with annoyed disgust for the rest of the meeting, somewhat glad their friendship had more or less caved in on itself before it had even begun. He wasn't sure how he had failed to notice how obnoxious she was for however long they had hung out.

Or maybe he was just in a bad mood and the things about Rachel's personality that normally only mildly bothered him were multiplied ten-fold.

Either way, he was thankful when she finally finished and Mr. Schue dismissed the club to go on their way.

Kurt was quick to latch on to Blaine's arm as they walked out the choir room door, confident that he would somehow make everything seem right, just as he always did.

"God, I've never been more thankful for a day to be over," Kurt sighed. "Now all you and I have to think about is relaxing on a beach in the sun. Mais oui."

Blaine didn't answer, and when Kurt looked to see his reaction it became clear that his boyfriend was more distant than he had ever been before.

"Is everything okay?" Kurt asked softly, hoping against hope that Blaine would convincingly assure him it was and they could just go on enjoying each other's company.

Instead, Blaine attempted what was obviously a forced smile and continued to avoid looking his boyfriend in the eye.

"Yeah, Kurt, everything's fine. It's just that...I have something I need to tell you and I've been sort of dreading having to bring it up."

Kurt's face instinctively fell, as did the rest of his determination to salvage this clusterfuck of a day.

"Oh?"

"The thing is…I, umm…I can't go to Florida."

Kurt felt the distinct sensation of his stomach dropping to his knees.

"What? Why not? I thought your parents okayed it a month ago-"

"They did," Blaine quickly interjected. "But some plans have come up with the family and I'll need to be here for that."

At this point, Kurt had stopped their gradual trek to the parking lot to study his boyfriend's face.

"Could you be more vague?" he challenged sarcastically, not bothering to hide the absolute fury of frustration that was now bubbling up inside him.

"What more do you want me to say?" Blaine asked, laughing exasperatedly. "It's a holiday. Families make spur of the moment plans. This isn't some new concept, Kurt."

Kurt glared at him.

"If you're going to be snarky with me, Blaine, then I'm going to walk away from this conversation right now."

This he attempted to do, positively fed up with everything and not willing to give up any more of his time to what was proving to be one of the worst days of the school year. Blaine grabbed his wrist before he could get very far, however.

"Kurt, please," he begged, trying to pull him in closer. "I really did want to go with you-"

Kurt wrenched himself out of Blaine's grasp more forcefully than was necessary.

"I really don't need to hear it right now."

He then stormed out to his car in a huff, leaving Blaine to stand alone with his private guilt in the middle of the hallway.

* * *

><p>He arrived home to a completely dark and empty house as Finn was at Rachel's and his dad and Carol wouldn't be home from work for a few hours. It was raining outside, making everything sort of dark and cold and dreary and otherwise completely identical to how he felt.<p>

Kurt simply retreated to his room, threw his book bag on the floor and collapsed on his bed where he allowed himself to cry unashamedly into his pillow. It was the absolute culmination of everything that had gone wrong today.

He wasn't going to win the election. He wasn't going to get the application buffers that he needed to help him get into NYADA. He wasn't going to get to New York. And despite his best efforts, Blaine was obviously getting tired of him and, for whatever reason, was just delaying the inevitability of a break up.

Had he not shown Blaine just how spontaneous and sexy he could be? Hadn't he gone completely out of his way to try to shake their relationship up? If things were already getting stale before they had even been together an entire year, what hope for a future did they have?

At the moment, Kurt was feeling as though the hope for his own personal future was at an all time low. Somehow, the effort to have an amazing senior year where he got everything he ever wanted had devolved into the prelude of a lonely life spent in Lima surrounded by 30 cats. He had never felt like more of a hopeless wreck.

_Bloop!_

The sound of facebook chat jarred him, mostly because he hadn't remembered leaving his lap top on before heading out to school that morning. He was, at first, inclined to ignore it completely, but he ultimately decided that anything was better than wallowing in self-pity and making his eyelids puffier, redder, and progressively more unattractive.

So he reluctantly awakened the monitor and brought up the minimized Mozilla browser, certain that it was probably just Santana with her surprisingly late lecture on not being mean to Brittany ever.

'_dude sorry i know this is random, but i have 2 show u this pic of my dads dog from halloween. my 4 yr old niece picked the costume out'_

'Suddenly Dave Karofsky,' Kurt thought to himself as he clicked the provided picture link. An image of a completely degraded little terrier of some kind wearing an ill-fitting pink and sparkly unicorn costume emerged in the separate tab.

Kurt, despite himself, couldn't help a smile and a giggle. The dog's miserable expression contrasting with the absolute ridiculousness of the outfit was making it impossible for him to hold on to his misery.

'_Lord, that is terrifyingly cute.'_ He typed back._ ' I'm torn between calling PETA and just cooing at my screen'_

'_i hope u dont take this the wrong way but it kinda reminded me of u'_

Kurt laughed disbelievingly and wiped some of the residual moisture from his face ungracefully with the back of his hand. It was disgusting, he knew, but he didn't feel like seeking out some tissues.

'_I'm not sure how to interpret that, David. You realize that you're saying a picture of a miserable rat terrier in a unicorn costume reminds you of me?'_

'_well just b/c of the campaign posters brittany made 4 u. santana showed me a few…& by that i mean she forced me 2 come over & help her and britt make them'_

Part of him wanted to frown and get angry all over again at the mention of those horrible, embarrassing, tacky posters that may have single-handedly doomed him from the start, but the mental image of Santana forcing Dave to decorate pictures of him with pink glitter was too amusing. So too was the thought of Dave Karofsky sitting in a living room surrounded by girls and their crafting supplies with an expression on his face that no doubt mirrored that of his father's poor dog.

'_Traitor. Those posters were hideous.'_

'_dont blame me i didnt design them. anyway santana is scary when u say no 2 her. if it helps i had glitter all over my clothes 4 weeks'_

He chuckled again, a bit harder this time now that his suspicions had been confirmed. Kurt was sure there was no price too large to have been given a chance to witness that scene in all its glory.

'_That does help, actually, thank you.'_

'_lol sure thing'_

'_Hey, look, let's not talk about the campaign right now, if it's all the same to you,' _Kurt answered back after a brief pause to collect himself. The discussion so far had not upset him –quite the opposite, in fact- but he still didn't want to talk about what was proving to be the biggest train wreck of his high school career. '_I've had a miserable day, all thanks to that.' _

'_oh sorry'_

In the rather brief span of time they had been corresponding, Kurt had come to gather that Dave was being especially serious when he didn't include an emoticon. Not wanting him to get the impression that he had actually done something wrong, Kurt was quick to reassure him otherwise.

'_It's fine, you didn't know. =)' _

Conversely, Kurt's use of said emoticons in their discussion seemed to be especially successful at clearing tension and letting Dave know, without a doubt, that everything was fine. He might have felt like a condescending bitch, but if his IM partner appreciated it then it was worth it to him.

All of a sudden, Kurt happened upon a rather crazy idea. Maybe it was because he was feeling a little desperate and lonely and Dave had become something of an obliging, reliable friend to him. It was still a risk, he knew, as was any forward movement he made with this particular relationship.

But his need to get out of his house and hang out with someone who wouldn't make him feel like utter shit managed to get the better of him.

'_But…if you're really feeling remorseful about it, you could make it up to me.'_

'_oh yeah hows that?'_

'_I'm alone in the house, it's raining and I feel like shit. I need coffee and real life conversation. Want to meet me at The Lima Bean?'_

Kurt waited, rather impatiently, for a response. Why he felt the same nervousness one gets when asking someone out on a date, he didn't know. Was he actually afraid that Dave might turn him down? Kurt had to take a moment to fully appreciate the irony of that.

There was an uncomfortably long pause before Dave replied.

'_sure_'

It was unsettlingly simplistic. Had he freaked him out or something? Was he being too forward with this invitation?

'No,' Kurt decided, firmly. 'I most certainly am not. If he was uncomfortable with it he should have said something. Now, he'll just have to suffer my presence and it'll be his fault, not mine.'

'_Great!'_ Kurt typed back, determined to seem unaffected. '_What do you say in about 30 mins?'_

'_yeah that works 4 me'_

'_See you there. =)'_

'_Cya =)'_

And just like that, whatever discomfort Kurt might have been feeling about this meeting was immediately cast aside with inclusion of a smiley.

* * *

><p>He wasn't exactly sure why, but when Kurt pulled up to the comfortingly familiar coffee shop he half expected to have to wait awhile for his company. If he was honest, Dave didn't exactly give off the impression of a punctual person.<p>

So it was all the more surprising when he walked in and saw him there already, sitting comfortably at one of the tables closer to the wall focusing, somewhat fixatedly, on a book.

'Dave Karofsky is early and reading a book at a coffee shop. I'm coming here to meet and hang out with him.'

It took a moment for that thought to fully sink in. Kurt wondered if it should make him feel weird, but aside from the undeniable contrast between this moment and their past, he really didn't mind it at all.

In this brief span of time, he also couldn't help but take in the image of Dave sitting there, reading glasses on, being completely swept up in _Veronika Decides to Die_. He was dressed comfortably- no letterman or excessive amounts of denim to hide him, just a comfortable black zip up hoodie, grey sweater and jeans. It was a fairly nondescript, young adult male ensemble –probably from Target, but Kurt certainly wasn't expecting designer brands- but nothing that spoke of trying to hide anything. If he was honest, comfortable Dave was much easier on the eyes than scared, defensive Dave.

"Would you be offended if I told you I'm surprised to find you here _reading_?" Kurt said jokingly as he pulled out the chair across from him.

When Dave glanced up from his book, his look of concentration almost immediately morphed into a surprised smile.

"Nah," he chuckled as he put aside both the novel and his glasses. "I don't think I ever really came off as someone who reads."

Kurt shook his head. "That you did not."

"So did you want some coffee or something?"

"Oh, they have that here?" Kurt asked, pretending to look around bewilderedly.

"Yeah, I think so. I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask." Dave laughed, rising from the table. "Tell you what, you tell me what you want and then I'll let you save the table while I go get it for you."

Kurt smiled at the practically deserted shop, knowing full-well Dave was trying to be slick about paying for him. He wasn't entirely sure if he should be even a little suspicious of his intentions for that, but a man buying him coffee was not something Kurt Hummel would ever pass up.

So Kurt let Dave buy him a non-fat, sugar-free caramel macchiato and the two then settled in for the second component of their meeting- that of course being, real life conversation.

"So…shit day today, huh?" Dave asked somewhat tentatively.

Kurt nodded, smiling sadly.

"I know you didn't want to talk about the campaign stuff, but if you wanted to vent about something else or anything, I don't mind."

"That's very generous of you, Dave."

Kurt sighed before deciding to go ahead and lend his new friend and conversation partner some insight into the significance of his campaign drama.

"Normally I don't care about class and popularity politics, as you've probably noticed, but I've been entertaining this rather lofty goal of getting into a sort of elitist performing arts school in New York. A meet and greet that Rachel and I went to for interested undergraduates pretty much proved that we weren't going to be able to rely on talent alone, so I thought maybe if I accomplished something really impressive this year it might help compensate a little. Plus, I thought being class president might allow me to help out some of the other Dave Karofskys that could be hiding out at our school."

Dave smiled. "If they're anything like I was they'll need all the help they can get."

"Well, it won't be from me," Kurt replied, staring disappointedly at his coffee cup. "It was stupid to even get involved. Even if I wasn't running against the popular cheerleader, on what planet would the kids of McKinley elect someone like me? When it's not to try and humiliate and make fun of me for my effeminate nature and sexuality, of course."

Dave shook his head. "I don't see how trying to accomplish something is stupid. You know? You just give it your all and you hope for the best. But I don't know, I just think it's sort of fucked that you have to rely on a bunch of douchebags to get you into your dream school."

"There's no guarantee it would have helped anyway. I just thought it might add a little something impressive."

Dave opened his mouth for a moment as though he was going to further his point, but seemed to think better of it, as he faltered back. It occurred to Kurt then that maybe he wasn't being as personable here as could have.

"I'm sorry, we've been talking an awful lot about me, yet you're the one who's done god knows what this summer to transform you into this bear cub butterfly."

Dave laughed again, similar to how he did in the bar when Kurt made the joke about his resemblance to Yogi bear. He was obviously easily amused, Kurt reasoned, as neither of these attempts at humor were nearly funny enough to elicit such a response, at least in his opinion.

"So what happened?" Kurt asked, hoping the question was open-ended enough.

"A lot of things, actually. I mean, initially, things got really bad for me after prom. I kind of retreated from everyone. I wasn't a douche anymore, obviously, I just wasn't talking or hanging out with anybody. I kind of spent June just locked up in room. I don't know, I guess I was afraid that prom was it for me, you know? Like, somehow people would figure it out and then everyone would know and it'd just be common knowledge."

Kurt just nodded and swallowed thickly, the guilt that had been subtly eating at him for that event multiplying ten-fold.

"But then one day, just out the blue, Santana came over. She just fucking barged into my room and she sat on my bed and she made me cry it out. She said she was tired of getting questions about what was up with me from Azimio and that she didn't want to be known for dating an emotional train wreck. Between you and me, I think she was a little worried about me and didn't want to admit it."

The both of them chuckled knowingly.

"So yeah, everything sort of did a 180 after that. Dad agreed to get me a therapist. I've been taking some meds, but nothing that fucks me up too much. And the transfer was my therapist's idea, actually. Dad and I thought it was a good idea too, so we just went for it. Honestly, I think it was one of the best decisions I ever made."

"And where does Scandals come into all of this, if I may ask?"

Dave chuckled to himself. "That was actually just a shot in the dark, on my part. I mean, I wanted to meet some other people like me around here, but the closest LGBT group is in Cleveland. I just heard about it and decided to give it a shot. Turns out that was a pretty good idea too. The guys there have really taken me under their wing."

"I'm guessing they know you're not legal," Kurt smirked.

"Yeah, but they usually turn a blind eye to that stuff. They figure kids like us should get chances to be in an accepting environment, so long as you make an effort to bring a fake ID they'll usually wave you in."

"Don't I know it. My ID said I was from Hawaii. I literally greeted the bouncer with 'aloha', just because I didn't know what else to do."

Dave shook his head, laughing even more animatedly than before. It might have baffled Kurt that he could be so amusing to someone, but he couldn't lie and say that he didn't like what the response was doing to his ego.

"You were really pushing your luck there, Hummel."

Kurt smiled, unashamedly satisfied with himself. He took another sip of his macchiato before asking,

"So, just out of curiosity, what is Dave Karofsky planning to do when he finally conquers the shit labyrinth that is high school?"

"Honestly? I have no fucking clue. The future is pretty scary when you think about it too much."

Kurt nodded somewhat enthusiastically in agreement.

"But there's this recruiter guy from OSU coming to check out the team next week." Dave continued. Kurt noticed what he thought to be his eyes lighting up a little at this mention.

"Do you think you have a good chance of being selected?"

"No idea. I mean, I'm playing better than I ever have, so that's something, but these guys are pretty selective so that might mean jack shit. Either way, I'm gonna do my best when he comes. A scholarship would be great and it might make my dad hate me a little less.

Kurt smiled at him sympathetically.

"I've met your dad and I can honestly attest that he _doesn't_ hate you."

"Yeah, I mean, he doesn't _hate _me, I know that, it's just that I don't think he's ever really forgiven me for the shit that went down last year. I know he defended me and everything but I kinda betrayed his trust and let him down."

Kurt paused a moment and studied the boy across from him, wondering if he might get the answer to his impending question just by looking hard enough.

When that didn't work, he took the risk.

"Have you told him yet?"

Dave's gaze met with Kurt's and held it there for a moment before he answered.

"Nah, I don't want stress about that right now. I'm sort of still figuring this stuff out anyway. I think when the time is right, I'll know. Like I said before, right now I just want to worry about graduating and moving on with my life."

Kurt continued look at Dave, baffled once again by how much he had defied his expectations, both for his own development and for how life could generally work for a closeted teenager. Why did he ever think that the only way Dave could be happy was to do exactly what Kurt had done? How that ever made any sense to him, he no longer knew.

And now here they sat, more or less friends and Dave had significantly more wisdom about the homosexual world than Kurt ever did. The irony was bittersweet.

Kurt wanted to apologize to Dave then and there for holding him to his own apparently ignorant methods and expectations, but the pleasant moment was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Kurt…?"

Both Kurt and Dave snapped from their conversation to see Rachel and Finn standing near the entrance, looking at them with what could only be described as horrified confusion.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N- **This chapter is obviously a bit shorter than the last, but I really don't want to overload any of these with too much stuff. Any kurtofsky story, I think, deserves to be savored slowly. =) Thanks to all of you who have reviewed/alerted/favorited this story. It warms my heart to see that so many people are getting as much joy out of reading it as I am out of writing it. Love you all. 3

**Disclaimer- **Not mine.

* * *

><p>As Kurt faced the dumbstruck expressions of Finn and Rachel, both of whom couldn't seem to be bothered to stop being awkward and just <em>say <em>something, he knew that verily the pleasant coffee shop conversation was over.

"Well…fancy seeing you both here," he said with a forced smile, not sure what else to do.

Rachel's mouth sort of gaped and opened and closed a bit like a fish, while Finn squinted his eyes and surveyed him and Dave the same way he did his math homework.

Dave licked his lips uncomfortably and looked from the couple to Kurt for a moment before taking the reins himself.

"Uh…you guys are probably wandering what we're doing here…"

That seemed to gift Rachel with the necessary will power to finally speak.

"I should say so!"

Kurt couldn't help but be amused at the fact that this was the closest to speechless he'd ever seen her get.

"Yeah…" Finn added, still looking as though he was trying to decipher the meaning of the scene in front of him. "What exactly is going on here, guys?"

Before Kurt could blurt out the very necessary mention that it was none of their business, Dave spoke up with an answer.

"Kurt and I are actually thinking about starting a club. We were just going over some of the logistics."

Kurt shot Dave a look of shocked confusion, unsure of what direction he was going in with this ruse.

"A _club_?" Rachel repeated, indignant. "I'm sorry, but what sort of common interests do you two have that would culminate in the formation of a club? Wait, why am I even asking that? Clearly more pressing question here is why do I see _you two_ spending time with each other? Have I missed something?"

'Only just about everything,' Kurt thought as he began to rise and gather his things.

"Well, it's been just lovely running into you both, but I think Dave and I were just leaving. So if you'll excuse us…"

Kurt then made his hasty retreat to the front door, hoping Dave didn't mind too much that he was abruptly cutting off their hang-out time. It certainly wasn't his first choice, but there wasn't much else he could do, given the circumstances. Luckily, the two of them were quick enough to get out into the parking lot before any more prying questions could be tossed their way.

"Sorry about that," Kurt said as the both of them neared his Escalade. "I guess we should anticipate some sideways glances if we're going to keep publicly hanging out like this."

"We don't have to," he offered. "I mean, if it's going to be annoying for you or whatever. I'm fine with facebook chat."

"Don't be silly, this was really nice. Besides, Rachel and Finn don't get to dictate who I hang out with. It's none of their business and I don't intend to make it so anytime soon."

Dave looked back in the direction of the coffee shop and Kurt naturally followed his gaze to see Rachel and Finn watching them from the front windows with their noses practically pressed against the glass. The moment the two of them realized they had been caught, they tried to play it off casual- and failed miserably.

Kurt sighed loudly.

"Honestly, it's a worthy price to pay to be your friend, David," he assured him. "I would have had to deal with it in some other capacity anyhow."

Dave nodded and smiled, seemingly relieved. He then seemed to fall back in on himself and get a little fidgety.

"So, uhm…I was wondering…" he began, glancing sort of bashfully at the ground, the car, the shop- anything that wasn't Kurt. "…just that, I don't know…maybe we should exchange numbers or something? We don't have to, I just thought it might be easier to text sometimes or just chat or whatever."

"That's actually a really great idea! Here." Kurt then handed him his phone.

He was too enthusiastic about the possibility of being able to text his new friend whenever he wanted to notice any of Dave's somewhat revealing body language- namely, the obvious relief and excitement he was obviously feeling at getting Kurt's number.

"So are you going to be out of town this week?" Dave asked, handing the phone back.

Kurt grimaced apologetically, realizing that they wouldn't get another chance to meet up over the break.

"Yeah, I'll be in Florida with relatives. We're coming back on Saturday, so if you wanted to do something then or Sunday, I'd likely be available."

If he wasn't completely mistaken, Kurt was just about positive that Dave was fighting a rather big smile.

"Yeah, that would be cool. Just call me whenever."

Kurt nodded as Dave began to retreat in the direction of his car. Before he could very far, however, he stopped him with a gentle touch to the upper arm.

And he was suddenly in complete awe. Granted, it was covered in two or three layers of clothing, but what Kurt felt beneath his hand was nothing less than a rather large, firm bicep that was certainly too big for him to be able to wrap his hand around completely.

He didn't know why this shocked him. Maybe it was because, in some part of himself, he always thought of Dave Karofsky as just bulky and shapeless, which his clothes in the past often corroborated. The collection of muscle beneath his fingers, however, said otherwise.

"Oh, uhm…sorry," he muttered, removing his hand quickly. "I was just curious as to where you got the club excuse from. It was a clever move, don't get me wrong, just a little random."

But Kurt's mind wasn't really focused on Dave's excuse anymore, not while the sense memory of that bicep continued to grace his hand.

Dave shrugged. "I just remembered that time back in May when you wanted to start PFLAG. I dunno. 'Figured it was better than nothing."

Kurt just nodded, not bothering to ignore the pang of regret he felt at not ever getting said club off the ground. He might have at least been able to help Dave somewhat if he had. Alas, it was not as important to him then as it had become now.

He knew he could have kept them both there while he apologized indefinitely for all of the things he did or didn't do to try to help Dave out, but it hardly mattered anymore and wouldn't make much of a difference in any case.

Instead he wished him goodbye and climbed into the glacial cavern his Escalade had turned into out in the freezing November air, readying himself to deal with the inevitable reaction to all of this at home.

* * *

><p>"Alright, I want rooms clean and bags downstairs and ready to be loaded in the trunk at 7 am. Anyone who doesn't comply and makes my life that much harder tomorrow morning will be feeling my wrath in due time. Do I make myself clear?"<p>

Kurt and Finn just nodded, making incoherent noises of agreement.

"I sure hope you boys are listening to me here, because if one of you screws something up tomorrow, you're gonna be regretting it. We've got too long of a drive for me to have to be dealing with any crap."

Carol just laughed as she continued to poke her chopsticks around in her box of chicken lo-mein.

"Am I the only one who's actually looking forward to this?" she asked. "I _love _road trips- and beaches."

"I would be," Finn added in sort of a grumble. "If I didn't have to leave Rachel for practically a week. It just blows that she can't come along like Blaine."

Kurt sighed and was once again compelled to inconspicuously pull out his phone and check for any responses to his many texts to Blaine, just on the off-hand chance he might have sent one apologizing for being a neglectful jerk all day and changing his mind about coming.

When he knew for certain there were none, Kurt corrected his brother's statement.

"Blaine's not coming anymore. Something about having family stuff come up."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," Carol sighed, genuinely sorry for him. Burt, on the other hand, made a sigh of relief as unnoticeably as possible, as he had been sort of stressed about having to make sure Kurt didn't engage in relations on the family thanksgiving trip.

'As if there could be a less sexy setting,' Kurt would think.

"It's not a big deal," he assured her. "Things come up."

The family was then silent for a time as they continued to consume the MSG-laden replacement for the dinner they did not feel like cooking the night before a big road trip. Kurt suspected this awkward silence was partially due to his palpable disappointment at Blaine's cancellation, or perhaps the unspoken implications it had about his relationship. All-in-all, he wished someone would just say _something _to break the uncomfortable tension that was indirectly focused on him.

"Oh shoot," Finn exclaimed suddenly. "I totally forgot to ask Karofsky today for my zombie box-set back."

Okay, anything but _that_.

"What are you talking about, sweetie?" Carol asked, looking a bit wary at the mention of that name.

Kurt rounded on Finn immediately, hoping against hope that his stepbrother would notice his warning death glare to shut his big stupid mouth. Of course, he didn't.

"Rachel and I ran into Karofsky today when he was with Kurt at The Lima Bean. It was totally a perfect moment to ask for my movies back and I just totally forgot."

"Wait, what the _hell_ are you talking about?" Burt demanded to know, his voice rising. "Why was that Karofsky kid was around Kurt?"

Unsurprisingly, he then turned his attention to his son. "What the hell is he talking about? And don't you sugarcoat this for me."

Having realized his grave mistake, Finn just sat there with his mouth gaping open. Kurt continued to shoot daggers at his stepbrother as he did his best to diffuse the bomb that was Burt Hummel.

"It's not what you think, Dad," he explained calmly. "David and I were just hanging out."

Carol, Burt and Finn were now staring at Kurt as though he had just argued that the sky was green.

"_Excuse me_?" Burt asked after a time, his face getting noticeably redder.

Kurt bit his lip and sighed, realizing that this was going to take a longer discussion and a much more private setting than the dinner table.

"Can you and I go to the den?" he asked, looking squarely at his father. "There are some things we need to talk about."

Burt promptly wiped his mouth and rose from his chair, telling Carol and Finn to take whatever they wanted of his sesame chicken before storming away in the direction of the den.

Kurt followed reluctantly, trying to prepare himself as best he could for whatever would need to be said or done to properly pacify his father's worries. When he arrived to find Burt already sitting impatiently in his favorite lazy-boy, Kurt shut the door and had a seat on the couch.

"Dad, I'm about to tell you something that I have no right or authority to," he began, holding his father's gaze. "But I honestly don't see how else you're going to be supportive of my friendship if I don't."

There was virtually nothing else in the world at that moment that Kurt would have wanted to do less. Telling his dad about Dave certainly was just as much of a betrayal to his trust as when he told Blaine, but just like then, Kurt was between a rock and a hard place. For whatever it was worth, he trusted his dad more than anyone else in his life. Burt may have hated Dave, but Kurt was confident he would never reveal a secret like that, no matter who it was about.

And this was a matter of necessity. Whether or not Kurt felt comfortable with it, Burt deserved to know what was going on.

So he took a deep breath and explained in a soft voice,

"Dad, Dave is gay."

Burt's look of frustrated indignation didn't immediately leave, but it was clear that he was slowly softening into a sort of realization, as if suspicions that he had consciously or otherwise were being confirmed.

Kurt then let in to everything. He told him about the kiss in the locker room and how it related to the death threat and the further bullying. He told him about Santana's plan, how it involved Dave and his apology. He told him about the actually sincere apology Dave offered later in the hallway, how he broke down in tears and how he forgave him then. He told him about prom, how they were elected king and queen together, how he made the mistake of putting Dave on the spot and caused him to run away and fall into a month-long depression.

He told Burt about how Santana dragged Dave out of his funk, how Dave somehow managed to overcome everything with the help of a therapist, a bit of medication and a support group (his way of avoiding having to mention the bar). He explained how he ran into Dave again, being as vague as possible about it so his father wouldn't find out _he_ had been sneaking illegally into bars, and how he seemed happier than Kurt had ever seen him before.

"I decided to add him on facebook recently," he explained. "Just in case he needed someone else in his life who understood what was going on. We've been talking on there fairly regularly and have become friends. The rest is history."

Burt didn't talk immediately. He exhaled deeply and studied the floor as he took a moment to ponder all that had been said to him. Eventually, he looked back up and made direct eye contact with his son.

"You're sure he's changed?" he asked. "That he's not the guy anymore who threatened to kill you? Because Kurt, I respect that he's having to deal with what is no doubt a shit-storm right now and that he's been making an effort to better himself, but if he's even a little bit still like that guy who made you transfer schools, I want you to cut off communication with him right now. You can't change someone like that, as much as you might want to."

Kurt smiled confidently.

"I'm sure. I don't think that ever really was David, anyway."

Burt just nodded.

"Alright. I'm going to trust your judgment on this. As much as I might hate it, you're almost an adult and I know I need to start backing off and letting you make your own choices. All I ask is that you keep your wits about you, alright? There are so many people out there that are just dying to take advantage of you and you need to be aware of it."

"I promise you David's not like that," Kurt reiterated. "Believe me, I wouldn't have given him the time of day if I thought he was."

Burt nodded again and smiled at him sadly.

"There are just times when I look at you and all I can see is your mother. She certainly didn't put up with anyone's shit either, but she was also one of the most forgiving and loving people I've ever known. She was always trying to look for the good in people and she usually had a way of bringing it out in them in any case. I honestly think that the faith she had in me was the reason I was able to become someone worthy of her love."

His voice broke slightly.

"Just be careful, okay? Love the people that deserve you."

Kurt didn't hesitate to come over and wrap his arms around his Dad, who was clearly still fighting tears. Burt returned the embrace, clutching Kurt tightly to him in that sort of hug he only used when matters were really dire.

"I will, Dad, I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- **I sorta took a risk in this chapter with Dave's character, as I more or less used him as a vehicle for my feelings of Kurt/Blaine's actions in the last ep. I honestly do think this would be a valid reaction for his character though, so I'm only worried about how people will perceive him once it's all said and done. Here goes nothing, I guess!

**Disclaimer- **Not mine.

* * *

><p>Blaine had been rather disagreeable to the idea of opening the window when Sebastian first suggested it, considering that it was the dead of night and the outside temperature was somewhere in the very low 40's.<p>

But after their rigorous and rather involved activity that started in the bed, then somehow moved to the floor, then to the top of the table where they normally played their games of chess, and then back to the bed again, the blistering cold air was as satisfying as an Icee on a hot July afternoon.

"Don't tell me you're spent already," Sebastian whispered teasingly as his leg brushed against Blaine's. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

This statement was followed with a rather revealing yawn, to which Blaine chuckled.

"You look pretty tired to me, Seb."

"Whatever," he argued sleepily. "I can take you all night."

Blaine watched him as he rolled over on to his side so that he was facing the nightstand, pulling a bit of the sheet with him. He honestly couldn't help but reach over then and smooth out the wayward mess Sebastian's hair had become in the midst of their fury. The effort was basically futile, but he didn't really mind as that wasn't exactly the purpose of the action in the first place. His hand then drifted to Sebastian's shoulder and upper arm, which he caressed rather absentmindedly as he continued to watch him peacefully doze.

"You really are beautiful," he murmured, knowing full-well Sebastian wouldn't hear.

He was being entirely truthful, however. The way the soft glow of the bedside table shone on the golden brown of his lover's hair was a vision to be savored, as was the graceful way his long eyelashes rested just above his cheeks.

But these were not things Sebastian wanted to hear. Sebastian wanted to be spoken to harshly, dirtily. He didn't want to be caressed, he wanted to be thrown around roughly, tied to things and pushed up against walls and he wanted to do the same to Blaine when they reversed the roles.

It was not as if Blaine didn't enjoy that, because he very much did. He loved being pawed and clawed and grappled at with abandon. He loved being physically shown by someone just how much they desperately wanted him. These were things he would never get from Kurt, but there were times, like these, that he wished Sebastian would be willing to give just as much tenderness.

Then again, they were not boyfriends and this wasn't a relationship, so Sebastian didn't really owe him that. In fact, Blaine didn't exactly know how to qualify what they were without using some vulgar slang term that he really didn't feel was applicable.

'Awful, untrustworthy people, maybe,' Blaine would think when he was alone and able to fully bask in the fact that he was sleeping with someone while dating someone else.

But when he was with Sebastian –something he made a point of doing often while Kurt was roughly five states away- he didn't think about it.

At least not when his phone wasn't buzzing with constant texts from him, which it proceeded to do right at that moment, jarring Sebastian awake.

Blaine checked it, only to find yet another passive-aggressive message. He hadn't been stupid enough not to respond to Kurt at all, he just hadn't been doing it as much as he usually did, which was unsurprisingly upsetting to his boyfriend.

So Blaine quickly typed out a quick response that could be followed up with something more substantial in the morning. He was certain he loved Kurt, but he was feeling less and less inclined to talk to him with what was going on. Having to do so, even through text messages, was more or less like looking under a book after it's been used to squash a bug.

Sebastian tended to the situation by sitting up and kissing Blaine slow and passionately, grabbing the phone from his slack hand as he did so and sliding it farther away than it had been before on the bedside table.

"Let's not worry about that now," he whispered sultrily, pulling the both of them back down closer to the mattress.

Blaine simply allowed himself to surrender once more to the moment and savor the sensation of Sebastian all around him.

For the rest of the night, at least, he could live in a world where nothing about this was wrong or destructive or selfish.

* * *

><p>Despite the fact that the air conditioning was on, as well as the fan in his guestroom, Kurt had opened the window anyway. It wasn't often that he could revel in a November night with a low of 65, or smell the balmy sea air or hear the crash of the waves from the beach that was only a skip and hop away from his aunt and uncle's beachfront home.<p>

So energy efficiency be damned, he was going to enjoy that which he couldn't in a land-locked state.

Besides, he figured he was entitled to a little indulgence. Being away from all of the drama of home, Blaine included, had more or less gotten his mind away from it. Still, it bothered him that his boyfriend had suddenly become so distant in every sense of the word, seemingly with no reasonable explanation. He hadn't given up corresponding, but it was only through texts and they had been as short and as unrevealing as possible. He hadn't even come by to spend the evening with Kurt before he left on Tuesday.

It was all just so very strange and no amount of vacation time was going to get Kurt's mind off of it completely, it seemed.

As if to confirm this, his phone suddenly rang in the middle of the episode of Project Runway he was immersed in, and he completely forgot the show and jumped up from his lounge on the bed in the hopes that Blaine was _finally _calling to actually talk. The caller ID, however, revealed that it was none other than Dave. Kurt felt bad for suddenly feeling disappointed, but it wasn't some personal slight against him. Dave had been fun to chat with on the trip in any case, so he decided to be grateful to have some more time to talk with him and not focus on the fact that it wasn't his boyfriend.

"Hey there, Yogi."

He was greeted first with Dave's familiar chuckle.

"Hey. Sorry, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Only a very important episode of Project Runway that I've only seen ten million times. How dare you."

"Yeah, okay," he laughed again. "Well, sorry I bothered you. You don't seem nearly as upset as I thought you'd be."

Kurt paused a moment, confused.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Nothing, it's just that I was screwing around on facebook an hour or so ago and I saw that you had one of those vague, upset-sounding statuses. I thought I'd call and make sure no one is breaking your heart down there."

Kurt smiled to himself.

"Not down here, no."

"Oh…that's good."

Clearly, this wasn't an answer that would successfully put Dave's mind at ease. If he was honest, Kurt didn't expect it to.

"Look, it's nothing to worry about. I've just been having some communication issues with Blaine the past couple of days."

"Oh…communication issues as in…his phone isn't working or something?"

Kurt knew Dave well enough by this point to know he didn't actually think that was the problem. In fact, Kurt knew quite well that this was Dave being inconspicuous about getting him to divulge the true issue.

Truthfully, Kurt had kind of wanted to vent to _someone _about it all. Dave was his friend now, so why not?

"Not exactly. Blaine has just gotten really distant of all a sudden and I can't quite figure out why."

"Oh."

"First, he just canceled on going with us this week out of the blue, then he didn't even come see me the night before I left, and now he hasn't even so much as _called_, just sent me these little quick texts. 'Busy now, love you', 'can't talk now, ilu sry'- that sort of thing. I mean, can I be blamed for being a little worried? Or am I just being too clingy?"

"Nah, I don't think so. That's kind of shitty of him not to tell you what's going on."

"I know, right?" Kurt exclaimed. "That's all I'm asking for, really, just some insight. I would be more than happy to give him the space he needs, if he would just tell me why he needs it. Does that make sense?"

"Definitely."

Kurt rose to shut off the TV, which had managed to go from necessary white noise to obnoxious distraction.

"I don't know. I mean, maybe all of this wouldn't be such a big deal to me if the stuff that went down a week ago hadn't happened."

Dave was quiet for awhile, perhaps assuming that Kurt would elaborate on that if he was. When it appeared that a prod was needed, he obliged accordingly.

"What sort of stuff? I mean- if it's okay that I ask, if you wanted to talk about it. I know it's none of my business or anything."

"No, no, it's completely fine. I need to get this out and I'm regrettably lacking in gossip-mongering female friends at the moment, so you'll have to suffice."

Kurt sighed as he took a seat in one of the wicker chairs in the corner of the room, propping his feat up on the footrest as he prepared for what was going to be a rather involved personal explanation.

"So as it turns out, I don't frequent gay bars and I wouldn't have gone to Scandals that night if it hadn't been for this particular individual, named Sebastian, who seems to be vying to sink his claws into Blaine. He's not being subtle about it either."

"So…you wanted to just keep an eye on them or something?"

"Something like that. He invited us out and I was determined to let him know that I'm anything but intimidated by him and his efforts to whisk Blaine away, so I went."

Dave made a 'hmm' type noise and Kurt couldn't tell if he was considering what had been said or just playing the Finn card of making a noise after someone says something to give the false impression he's been listening.

But he continued, unabashed.

"Anyway, Blaine got really drunk that night and sort of tried to consummate our relationship in the parking lot when we were on our way home. This all really didn't come as a surprise to me though, indignant as I was at the time that he was being so forward. We had been talking about making forward strides in our relationship and trying new things out, so I'm guessing this was just his intoxicated way of trying to make it happen."

"…okay."

"It felt like we had worked everything out though. I realized that it wasn't really fair of me to try to suffocate Blaine's spontaneity like that and he apologized to me for acting out of hand when he's drunk. We decided to go ahead and make that _forward step_, if you will, and I guess I just figured after all was said and done, we'd be fine and get past this. I just can't help but think that he's not after all."

Dave was completely silent, for an uncomfortably long period of time. At first Kurt thought maybe he hadn't realized the explanation was over, so he said teasingly,

"You still awake there, Yogi?"

"Yeah, I'm definitely awake."

There was no humor to Dave's tone, not even casual indifference.

"I'm sorry…is something wrong?"

"I don't know, Kurt, is there?" Dave replied back, sharply. "Do _you _think there's something wrong with what you've just told me?"

Kurt paused a moment, trying to decipher why in the world he suddenly sounded so aggravated.

"I feel like I've missed something here. Why are you suddenly so hostile?"

Dave laughed again, but this time there was no mistaking that it was out of exasperation.

"Kurt, look, I'm not going to bite my tongue about this anymore. I think you're boyfriend is a fucking douchebag."

"…_excuse me_?"

"Am I the only one out the two of us that thinks it's just a little bit fucked that you even have to worry about this Sebastian guy? Or the fact that you're chalking his drunken rape attempt up to a need for _spontaneity?_ And that he fucking lets you without even acknowledging that he's been a douche?"

"David, I think I need to point out here that you're overstepping your bounds," Kurt mentioned warningly.

"Well you're the one who fucking told me about this, aren't you? What do you want me to do, Kurt, clap you and prep-school on the back for all of the fabulous choices you've been making with your relationship?"

"Don't you dare judge my choices with my boyfriend or my relationship!" Kurt snapped. "I think we both know quite well that you're in no position to criticize the decisions someone else makes with their own life."

"Fucking great, why don't you throw that back in my face?" Dave rallied back, his voice breaking slightly. "You talk a big game about forgiveness and keeping an open mind about me, but inevitably I know I can just expect you to dig everything back up again. Well fuck, Kurt, maybe I _am _just an ugly, fat gay loser who can only find acceptance in a sleazy bar. Maybe I am just a huge asshole that's doomed to lie to myself and alienate everyone for the rest of my fucking life, but _at least _I'm not desperate enough to date some self-absorbed dick head who treats me like shit. _At least _I'm not some fucking gorgeous, perfect human being who is wasting away in a dead-end relationship because I don't have the self-respect to see that I deserve so much fucking better than that."

If Kurt had anything previously he wanted to throw back in Dave's face, he had forgotten it by now completely. Instead he stared blankly at the bed immediately in front of him, his mouth hanging open unconsciously.

"Whatever," Dave said after a time, sniffing, his breathing sounded ragged. "Just…just fucking enjoy yourself, Kurt."

And then he hung up.

* * *

><p>They didn't talk to each other again for a while.<p>

Kurt spent the rest of his evening and morning of departure just in a sort of daze, mulling over everything Dave had said and trying to dissect it piece by piece. He hadn't really understood at the time why he suddenly got so angry it sounded as though he might have been crying. Truthfully, he still didn't.

He wanted so very badly to be angry and indignant that Dave would dare call him out like that. He wanted to hate Dave all over again and just write him off as having not changed, mostly because all of that would be easy. After all, it was never difficult to _hate_ Dave, to classify him just as stupid jock number 3 who, like the rest, was just out to make Kurt's life a living hell. Where people like Dave were concerned, hate was an emotion Kurt could deal with and understand. It was the expected feeling between two people such as them.

But there was a rather large problem with all of that. Kurt knew now that Dave wasn't just some big dumb blockhead and it was quite clear that the drama fest over the phone hadn't been done to torment him for sport, like a locker check or slushie. It was rather apparent this reaction had come from a purely emotional place, as was evidenced by Dave's not so vague reference to Kurt as a 'perfect human being' who didn't have enough self-respect to see that he deserved better.

That wasn't bullying. That wasn't something Kurt could sweep under the rug and blame on the inherent asshole nature of Karofsky. He and Dave had dug themselves too deep in this seemingly doomed friendship for that to work.

So Kurt decided, instead, to not think about it or Dave at all.

To unknowingly help him out with this endeavor, Blaine finally called not long after the family arrived back in Lima, asking Kurt if he could take him out the next night to make up for everything. Kurt agreed to this enthusiastically and let himself revel in the prospect of the evening ahead, continuing to push all thoughts of Dave Karofsky out of his mind.

Blaine showed up on time with a lush bouquet of red roses, wearing the rather expensive cologne Kurt had given him for his birthday. He was once again gentlemanly and romantic as he treated his boyfriend to dinner, as he listened intently to everything Kurt had to say, as he took him back to his house to enjoy the bottle of wine he'd gotten with the same ID he used to get into Scandals. Thankful to have his boyfriend back, Kurt allowed Blaine to make love to him again. He didn't complain when Blaine, the metallic stench of the wine still heavy on his breath, pinned his wrists down and began whispering unpleasantly vulgar things in his ear, or when he was a bit rougher than he had been before.

When it was over and Kurt lay with a peacefully sleeping Blaine in his arms, he knew it had all been worth it. Really, just to hold on to this perfect boy forever would be worth anything in the world.

It wasn't until the second week of December that Kurt was compelled to think about Dave Karofsky once more.

He figured he should have been expecting it as he saw Santana come storming down the hall towards him one day after Glee practice. Despite the fact that he really didn't talk to her anymore -what with her move to The Troubletones- he somehow already knew exactly what she wanted to discuss with him.

"You and I need to have words, ladyface," she said tersely, getting closer into his personal space than he was entirely comfortable with.

"Do we?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm of the mind that you and I have absolutely nothing to say to each other."

"Believe me, no one wishes that were true more than I do, so I'll keep this short and sweet. I need to know what the fuck you've done to Karofsky."

Kurt looked at her incredulously.

"Excuse me? What _I've _done?"

"I don't think I stuttered."

"_I _didn't do a blessed thing," he scoffed. "Not that it's any of your business anyhow."

He attempted to walk away from her then, but she stopped him with a firm clasp of the shoulder. He could feel her nails digging into his skin slightly.

"Anything having to do with him is my business," she corrected, staring squarely into Kurt's eyes. "Look, if you ask me to repeat this in _any _public setting I will call you a filthy liar, but I'm telling you now that next to Brittany, Dave has become of one my closest friends. Did I want him to be? No, but he's got a way of worming his fat head into your heart and staying there. He's been there for me when no one else has, just as I've been for him. He's understood things about me that other people have judged and criticized right off the bat. So you best believe that when _anyone _messes with my boy, they're gonna hear from me."

Kurt shrugged her hand off and tried not to make the fact that he was slightly touched by her speech too apparent.

"If you're such good friends, I'm sure he'd be willing to tell you everything- like about how he blew up at me over the phone, judged _me_ for the choices I made with my relationship, called my boyfriend a douchebag-"

"I don't need to hear it," Santana interrupted, putting a hand up. "I don't know why he's upset, but you're right, that's none of my business. All I know is that he's turning into the guy I had to kick in the ass back in June and that's just not gonna fly. You two need to talk and you need to do it soon."

"When Dave decides he wants to apologize to me, I'd be happy to talk to him again. Until then-"

"Have you been living with your head stuck in the ground or something? On what planet do boys _ever_ read minds and anticipate whims?"

Kurt honestly didn't have much to say to that.

"Look, princess, if you want Dave to apologize to you, you need to tell him that's what you want him to say. He's probably under the impression you never want to see him again…and I know _that_ isn't the case, is it?"

He could have misinterpreted her last line as threat, if he wanted to, but delusion could only run so deep. Santana knew far more about a person's character than she should be able to, specifically _his_.

"It was nice talking to you, Santana," Kurt sighed, huffily walking away from her as quick as he could.

"You talk to him, Hummel!" she called out. "Or you and I far from through with this!"

Of course he had already decided to do so, the image of Dave having collapsed in on himself once more like in June weighing a bit too heavily on him.

But he wasn't about to give Santana the satisfaction of knowing she had convinced him.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N-**Another fairly brief, light-hearted chapter. I only have a few notes this time. Firstly, yes I realize it's not even Thanksgiving yet and somewhat early for a Christmas-y chapter, but I love Christmas and I'm feeling sorta festive already, despite how early it is. Also, I'm a little sad that we probably won't be seeing Max again before the winter hiatus, so I thought I'd inject some Christmas Kurtofsky for my own sake. Secondly, you will notice some references here to the fact that Dave is Russian and Jewish. I've heard people argue that Karofsky is actually a Polish name, but I've yet to find any confirmation on this one way or another (and I've done research, trust me) so for now, I'll favor the former interpretation.

**Disclaimer- **Not mine

* * *

><p>It wasn't until Friday of that week that Kurt finally decided to take the plunge and visit Dave. He didn't want to call or message him ahead of time, as that would inevitably lead to a discussion that wasn't face-to-face and he didn't want to do this any other way.<p>

So he contacted Santana, explained his intentions, and had her nonchalantly check to make sure he was home and available to have what was no doubt going to be a long, dramatic, heartfelt conversation.

How she had made _that_ inconspicuous he would never know, but wasn't it he who named her the Latina Eve Harrington?

It was not long after school had gotten out and Burt and Carol wouldn't be home for a few more hours, so Kurt was hoping that he could slip in and out unnoticed. He really didn't want his family to be more involved with his relationship with Dave than they absolutely needed to be.

Finn was, of course, playing some sort of Xbox game over the headset with Puck in the living room. He was in clear view of Kurt getting his pea-coat and scarf and preparing to leave, but it seemed as if he was too immersed in whatever he and Puck were shooting at to be concerned with what his stepbrother was doing.

"Hey, are you going to the store?" Finn called over.

_Crap_.

"No, sorry."

"Damn. I really wanted some more Doritos."

"Sorry about that. I'll be home in a little-"

"Are you going to Karofsky's?"

Kurt just froze, staring incredulously at Finn.

"Why would you think that?" he asked. "I've never gone over there before."

Finn shrugged. "I dunno. Thought you guys were friends- no, Puck, I'm talking to Kurt. Yeah, Kurt. He and Karofsky are friends now. Yeah, that's what I said. I dunno, why don't you ask him?"

Absolutely mortified, Kurt fled the house, slamming the door behind him, and jumped into his car before Finn could force him to have to confront Puck's prying questions. He would no doubt have to hear them on Monday, regardless.

Or maybe Puck would forget. Kurt could only hope.

Before he could back out of the driveway, however, his phone buzzed with a text message from Finn. Morbidly curious, he checked it.

'_can u ask karovsky 4 my movies bck plz thnx' _

* * *

><p>Kurt had some rough idea where Dave lived, though that didn't mean he could go without the assistance of his GPS. After all, he was not exactly directionally inclined and this was not the time (nor the most preferable weather) to get lost.<p>

The Karofsky house was admittedly a lot larger than he anticipated and as he left the car and made his way up the rather lengthy walk to the front door, he couldn't help but wonder what it was Paul Karofsky did for a living.

He took a deep breath before ringing the door bell and then stood bracing himself against the harsh December air as he waited for answer, trying not to peer into the small glass windows of the door to see who was coming.

"Oh..hi there!"

The voice greeting him when the door opened was surprisingly both chipper and female, so Kurt looked up quickly from where he had focused his attention on the welcome mat to see who it belonged to.

The young woman standing in the doorway was slightly taller than him, with voluminous, wavy brown hair that cascaded rather beautifully down her shoulders. She was undeniably voluptuous and rather pretty in the face and there was something about her that told Kurt she was a very boisterous and energetic sort of person without even having exchanged words with her.

"Hi," he greeted, smiling bravely. "My name is Kurt Hummel, I'm a friend of David's. I was wondering if he was around to talk?"

The young woman smiled somewhat mischievously and beckoned him in.

"He certainly is," she giggled, closing the door behind him. "But I'll let that be surprise. I'm Natasha, by the way, Dave's older sister."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

Natasha took his coat rather hastily and then grabbed him by the arm.

"Come on," she said, now dropping her voice to a whisper. "He's in the living room, but we have to be very quiet so he doesn't know we're there."

He allowed himself to be somewhat dragged in the direction of said living room, not even bothering to soak up the passing sights of the interior household as they were moving too fast for him to really get a chance. He did hope, however, that there would be a better opportunity later.

When they arrived at what Kurt assumed to be the entrance to the living room, Natasha giggled again and pressed herself up against the wall, encouraging him to do the same. She reiterated her earlier point about being quiet by pressing a finger to her full red lips, and then shifted Kurt towards the threshold so that he might be able to peer over and see what was going on within. This he did, assuming that whatever Natasha was so giddy about had to have been worth all of the hullabaloo.

Lo and behold, he was correct.

Truthfully, Kurt didn't know exactly what to expect when he had come to see Dave, though he assumed that it would most likely have something to do with being locked up in a room in the dark. But nothing, absolutely _nothing_, could have prepared him for the sight of Dave sitting on the living room couch with a chubby, pig-tailed four year old girl in his lap, singing along animatedly with her to 'Frosty the Snowman'.

The little girl bounced and clapped excitedly, Dave doing the same of the latter. When the song mentioned the 'button nose', he pinched hers gently between the knuckles of his pointer and index fingers and she squealed happily. He also made a point of tickling her ribs at several intervals in the song and she would kick and screech like some kind of highly amused piglet.

Kurt took a moment to savor this scene from his safe hiding spot, more or less in awe of it all and not sure what to feel in response. He suspected that these constant reveals that further reiterated the point that Dave Karofsky was never just some big dumb Neanderthal were getting a little overwhelming. Then again, perhaps so too was the effect these reveals were having, as the scene in the living room made him feel inexplicably warm and gooey inside.

Part of him screamed to turn away or interrupt it somehow. Dave was not supposed to be the type of guy who sang Christmas carols animatedly with a four year old and looked adorable with her while he tickled her and pinched her nose. Then again, he was not supposed to be the type of person Kurt would be friends with and he had already defied that expectation rather well. So what was Kurt supposed to do? Just allow himself to be uncomfortably endeared by this? It didn't seem right, and yet it was happening regardless.

"With all of this Christmas cheer in this house you would have never known we're Jewish," Natasha joked softly.

Kurt chuckled back, thankful for the interruption to his dangerous train of thought. He was about to ask if it would be okay for him to make his presence known, when it was suddenly taken care of for him.

"Uncle Davey, who's that?"

Kurt glanced in the direction of the four year old's squeaky little voice and saw her round little eyes trained on him. They were very soon followed by Dave's, who jumped slightly at the sight of Kurt standing a little too far forward in the threshold to be properly hiding anymore. Naturally, their gazes met, and Kurt noticed a slight smile tugging on the corner of Dave's mouth.

"Kurt…!" he exclaimed, somewhat breathlessly. "W-what…um…w-w-what are you doing here?"

Interrupting the moment was Natasha's bell-ring of a laugh as she walked around Kurt and into the living room.

"I was trying to show Kurt how cute you and Reesie are," she explained. "Aren't they cute, Kurt?"

Kurt grinned amusedly and folded his arms over his chest.

"I think they're positively adorable, Natasha."

Dave then blushed a deep, unmistakable crimson and Kurt instantly found it impossible to hold any kind of hostility against him any longer.

"Kurt, this is my daughter and Dave's niece, Theresa," Natasha mentioned, taking the little girl from Dave and hoisting her into her arms. "But we just call her Reesie. Isn't that right, lopushka?"

Reesie nodded dramatically, causing her thick brown pigtails to bob in rhythm.

"Mommy, is Kurt gonna sing with us too?"

"I'd very much like to later on," Kurt answered, smiling at her. "If that would be alright with you?"

Reesie grinned big and nodded again, and Kurt had the almost irrepressible urge to squeeze her puffy little cheeks.

"Alright, Reesie, why don't you take a coloring break with Mommy? Uncle Davey needs some time alone with his friend," Natasha cooed as she walked out of the room.

When the two were finally alone, an expected awkward silence ensued. Kurt studied Dave in that brief moment, as he avoided eye contact and nervously fidgeted. It was one of those occasions in which he was reminded of Dave's utter vulnerability and he realized then just how much this time of separation must have affected him.

Before he could say anything, however, Dave spoke up in a rather surprising flurry of words.

"Look, I don't know what to say to make up for what happened a few weeks ago. You know I'm not good with words, but I want you to know that I'm really, really fucking sorry. I was being an idiot and saying shit I had no right to. It's none of my business what you do and I damn well don't have any room at all to judge you for it, so…I'm sorry…and I'm sorry I didn't tell you this sooner, but I just figured you wanted me as far away from you as possible, so…"

Kurt smiled. "Santana told me you might be thinking that."

Dave's eyes widened. "Wait…Santana? Did she- what all did she tell you?"

"She just gave me a little nudge out the door. I admit I was being stubborn about coming to talk to you again, but she knew I wanted to and pretty much called my bluff."

Dave nodded and that reluctant grin he had been fighting finally made an appearance.

"I'm just glad you're back," he said simply. "I didn't know I could miss you that much."

_Damn you, Dave Karofsky_, Kurt thought as he didn't bother to stop himself then from enveloping him in a tight embrace. Dave returned it slowly, no doubt stunned by the sudden forward gesture.

And they simply held each other there in the living room for what would forever be an indeterminate amount of time.

If it had ever been uncertain that Kurt had forgiven Dave, all doubts were immediately put to rest. With that hug came the promise to always try again, to never hold on to things longer than necessary, and to stick with each other no matter what the future held for them.

There were a lot of things between them, it seemed, that were far better communicated in gestures and actions than they ever could be with words.

* * *

><p>Kurt stayed far longer at the Karofsky house than he had anticipated he would.<p>

He, of course, had to make good on his promise to Reesie to join her and her Uncle in their Christmas caroling. Dave seemed rather embarrassed and apologetic for it all at first, so Kurt made a point of sending him reassuring glances and being as positively dorky as possible, much to Reesie's amusement.

When Natasha invited Kurt to stay for dinner, he agreed to that as well. Hanging out with the Karofsky's certainly beat sitting in his room for the tenth Friday in a row- not to mention the fact that Natasha had made vegetable lasagna and the sheer smell of it was making Kurt's mouth water.

The rest of the evening was spent watching similarly goofy children's Christmas movies with Reesie until, at some point, she fell asleep across Kurt and Dave's laps.

"It seems we've been claimed as a bed," Kurt whispered in the middle of Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer, having realized she was fast asleep.

Dave laughed softly.

"We probably don't have to keep watching this," he pointed out.

Kurt glanced curiously at the collection of DVDs on the shelf over the flatscreen, scanning to see if anything in particular popped out at him.

"Wait, you have Irving Berlin's _Holiday Inn_?"

"Uh, yeah, it's one of my favorite Christmas movies."

Kurt had to look over at Dave to make sure he was still the same person, because how weird was it that Dave Karofsky admitted to liking a Bing Crosby movie?

It was pretty weird.

"I thought you were Jewish," he pointed out, teasingly.

"Well, yeah, but we've always celebrated Christmas anyway. It's just one of those things, you know?"

"Well, if you're in as much of a festive mood now as I am, then I say we should watch it immediately."

It took some doing to maneuver Reesie so that she was out of the way for Dave to get up and put the movie in not accidentally wake her in the process. They somehow succeeded in this effort and then settled back in, Kurt being especially excited to enjoy one of his favorite films of all time.

They were silent throughout most of it, with the exception of the occasional laugh or comment on how dreamy Bing Crosby was.

Dave, however, felt compelled to speak up at the Fourth of July scene when Marjorie Reynolds' character, angry at Bing Crosby, decided to leave him for Fred Astaire.

"Man, I forgot what a douche Fred Astaire is in this," he said disgustedly. "It's pretty fucked up to keep stealing your friend's girlfriends like that."

"Yes, but Bing wasn't exactly on his most chivalrous behavior either," Kurt pointed out. "So I can't say that I blame Mrs. Reynolds one bit."

"Okay, yeah, so Bing was acting like an ass too by not letting her make her own decisions, but you'd think she'd at least realize what a skeeze Fred Astaire is and not leave with him. I mean, isn't it pretty obvious that Bing Crosby is a way better guy anyway? He might have been stupid, but he did it because he loved her, you know?"

Kurt chuckled softly as he petted Reesie's curls.

"It's not as simple as that, though. She does love him and it's clear she knows he loves her too, but she wants to punish him for what he did."

Dave scoffed. "That seems like a pretty harsh punishment, especially since she knows he loves her."

"I think she needs to hear him say it," Kurt explained. "She can't completely submit herself to him if he won't overcome his fear and tell her exactly how he feels. She needs him to fight for her."

"But…isn't that like when he tried to prevent her from going to Hollywood? Shouldn't he just keep his distance and let her make her own decisions?"

"Fighting for someone isn't the same as trying to control them. She still has the option to shoot him down, if she wants. But if she was just a little bit conflicted between him and Fred Astaire, like she actually is, the fact that he was willing to go out of his way to get her back shows her that he loves her that much and that she was worth the effort to him. It's what tipped the scale in the end."

They didn't say anything more about it after that, and Kurt figured it was just a coincidence that Dave seemed particularly quiet and pensive from that point on.

When it was nearing the end of the movie and Majorie Reynolds had arrived on the Holiday Inn set to have her glorious, 'White Christmas' reunion with Bing Crosby, Kurt realized just how tired and dreamy he was feeling- both by the late hour and from the sheer emotion of the scene unfolding in front of them.

He didn't think to ask if it was okay when he somewhat unconsciously snuggled against Dave and rested his head on his shoulder. Dave was there, he was warm, and he had the comforting smell of laundry detergent and the signature scent of his home. After all, Kurt was a tactile person with people that he felt close to and maybe it was just the feeling in the air caused by the movie or the endearing presence of Reesie napping on his legs, but he was feeling especially close to him in that moment.

It only became uncomfortable when he could feel Dave tense, and so he instinctively looked up from where his head continued to rest to see if everything was okay.

Their eyes happened to meet and in a split second, Kurt felt his legs turn to jelly and it was unfortunately not because Reesie was still on them. His and Dave's faces were not very far apart at all and he could literally feel their breaths mingling in the small space between them. He was suddenly becoming very hyperaware of Dave- of his warmth, his scent, his softness. Consequently, his stomach flip-flopped.

Why was he staring at Dave's lips? Why did the closing proximity between their mouths suddenly feel natural? Why -despite the soft nagging in the back of his mind that he should- was he not stopping this?

Thankfully, Dave did. He abruptly turned his face away to look back at the film, just in time to see Bing Crosby and Marjorie Reynolds have their romantic reunion, seemingly pretending that the moment they just experienced hadn't actually occurred.

Kurt, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off of Dave. It was almost as if he had been hypnotized into staring at him, and truthfully, that wasn't too far off from the reality of the situation.

But no matter how long he looked and studied and tried to ponder what had just occurred, he couldn't get much farther than the question itself.

_What just happened? What in the world just happened? _

Perhaps as the universe's way of breaking the tension, Kurt's phone rang at that moment and the metallic sound of Lady Gaga's 'Heavy Metal Lover' woke Reesie up.

"Sorry," Kurt whispered to whoever would accept the apology as he checked to see who was calling. Unsurprisingly, it was his father and he remembered then that he hadn't bothered to call and tell them where he was at any point that night. It being already close to midnight, it was understandable that Burt would have some concerns- that he would no doubt voice very, very loudly in Kurt's ear.

Dave hoisted Reesie up in arms and carted her off to her room as Kurt reluctantly answered his phone.

"Hel-"

"About damn time. Where the hell are you and why haven't you called one of us yet?"

Kurt cringed.

"I'm really sorry, Dad, I was just-" he nearly revealed the fact that he had been at Dave's house, but reconsidered it for a safer option, just in case his father wasn't feeling as forgiving as he was a few weeks ago. "…hanging out at Mercedes'. We were just watching some movies and I guess I got distracted."

Burt 'humphed', but seemed to be more or less pacified by this explanation.

"You're lucky that I'm gonna let that fly this time, but in the future you had better make sure you take the two minutes required to call one of us and tell us where you're going. You know better than to rely on your brother to relay that information."

Kurt smiled to himself, choosing to believe that Finn _had _remembered that Kurt was going to Dave's but decided to play dumb about it in case Burt wasn't comfortable with it.

"Sure thing. I think I'm coming home now anyway."

"Alright, see you soon, kid."

Kurt had already put his peacoat and scarf back on by the time Dave came back down the stairs from Reesie's room. The two of them looked at one another again, and it seemed impossible to not get stuck on each other's gaze.

"Are…you leaving already?" Dave asked, probably already aware of the answer.

Kurt nodded and smiled apologetically. "Yeah, my Dad is kind of a snit since I didn't call him earlier, so I figure I probably shouldn't try to push the envelope."

Dave nodded understandingly.

"Well…thanks for coming over."

"I'm glad I did. It was fun."

The both of them stood in the doorway for a moment and it was undeniable that the silence was substituting for a multitude of unspoken words they were both afraid to say.

"I guess I'd better-"

"I mean, it's getting late, you probably should-"

The two of them laughed nervously at the simultaneous effort to quash the tension.

"Will you be online later?" Kurt finally managed.

"Uhm…yeah, definitely."

"Well, since I'm destined now to stay up late and watch my entire collection of old movies, I guess I might as well hang out with you on there when I get home."

Dave smiled. "That'd be awesome."

"Goodnight, Yogi."

"Night, Kurt."

It was only when Kurt was halfway home that he remembered Finn's box set. But then he realized that it could be used as a fairly convincing excuse for a while to keep visiting Dave's house, and decided then that his stepbrother probably wouldn't be seeing those movies again for quite a while.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- **My sincerest apologies for the wait, you all. I'm so glad you all have enjoyed the story so far and I'm sorry I had to give you the wrong idea with my daily updates there for a while, lol. The story was really easy to write up until this chapter, so we'll just see how it goes. I do want to point out that I feel like Kurt isn't acting 'as drunk' as most people do, which is for a couple of reasons. One, I didn't want to actually write slurred/drunken speech for him, for another I figured Kurt would be really emotional but more put-together when he was drunk than most people, and lastly...I'm not sure. It's just how things worked out. It's confirmed that he's had at least two shots of tequila which, from my experience, gets you a little loopy at least, so if it makes the most sense that he stopped there...well, we'll just stick with that. I also wanted to go a bit farther with this chapter than I did, but it was getting long and I didn't want to make you all wait anymore (nor myself). So here it is! Enjoy? ;D

**Disclaimer- **As ever, not mine (though I dream about a world in which it was)

* * *

><p>As glorious as it was to be off of school, Christmas break had already reached that all too familiar interval in which everything just got insufferably boring. Christmas itself was over, as was their eight days of lighting the menorah and having more family members over than the house could hold and Natasha could cook for. Truthfully, Dave had loved every minute of it, but now that everything had settled down he had begun to actually long for school to start again so that he could get back in the swing of just finishing it already. There was only one semester left of high school, after all, and that thought alone both excited and frustrated him.<p>

Matters were not improved by the fact that Kurt had stopped logging on as much online. When he did, it was only long enough to exchange a few quickly worded sentences and then he would be gone just as quickly as he had come. Dave had most assuredly spent a day or two obsessing over this, trying to wrack his brain for what he possibly might have said or done to piss him off, but he was more or less put at ease for his own innocence when Kurt assured him over the phone one night he had done nothing wrong.

Nevertheless, Kurt wasn't spilling about whatever it was that was bothering him. As curious and as worried as Dave was, he respected his friend's need for distance and gave him just that. Sure, it had occurred to him once or twice that maybe Kurt _wanted _him to pry- part of that whole 'fight for her' speech he gave about _Holiday Inn- _but Dave was able to stave that off rather well with the reminder that he was _not _the type of guy Kurt wanted fighting for him, romantically or otherwise. Dave was the type of guy Kurt was generous enough to forgive and allow a friendship with, and that was the end of it. He had already made it blatantly clear once before that Dave was _not _his type- as if his prep school boyfriend was not evidence enough of that.

So he didn't dare push those boundaries. Kurt set the standards, Kurt made the first moves, and Dave followed those. He wasn't about to screw up one of the best friendships he ever had just because of a stupid crush or a sudden bout of presumption.

Then again, he hadn't seen Kurt at all for most of the break, so when he was once more on Facebook and saw him log on, he didn't waste any time.

'_look whos back'_

'_Hey, yogi. Sorry I've been sort of AWOL lately. You're not mad at me are you?'_

Dave laughed.

'_lol no way dude. i was pretty sure u were mad at me'_

'_Oh, David, ever the martyr. I'm not mad at you, I promise. Now don't suggest it again.' _

'_yessir. so hey i was wondering what u were doing 4 new years eve'_

He had typed this out faster than he could have thought it over, afraid that if he lingered on the idea he might rethink it.

'_At the moment, I have a very pressing engagement with a bottle of spiked eggnog and a Desperate Housewives DVD.' _

'_that sounds…fun…'_

'_No it doesn't, it sounds pathetic and you know it.'_

'_im guessing bland i mean blaine has family stuff again?'_

He didn't really mind pointing out the douchebaggetry of Blaine, however. If there was any hope at all of convincing Kurt that his boyfriend was an asshole, Dave would be the first to take advantage of it.

'_How ever did you know?' _

'_lucky guess. so what if instead of doing that u come w/ me and santana and brittany 2 the new years thing at scandals'_

The pause in Kurt's response made Dave want to jump out of his window in utter regret. Before he could do so, however, the reply was sent.

'_Well, I can't say I'm a huge fan of that place. I recognize that it's given you a safe haven, which I think is wonderful, but I just don't know if seedy gay bars are my thing.'_

Yeah, he thought as much. So much for even thinking that would go over in his favor.

'_where r u going 2 hang out during college then?'_ Dave joked, hoping it would distract the both of them from his pathetic rejection.

Once again, Kurt was suspiciously slow in answering back and when he did, it made everything significantly more confusing.

'_You know what? Fine, I'd love to go with you guys. I guess I better get used to hanging out in places like that.'_

'_whoa dude it was just a joke i didnt mean 2 imply anything…'_

'_For crying out loud, David, I'm not mad. I want to go. When will you pick me up?'_

It was at that moment that he hated IM more than anything. How in the world was he supposed to tell if Kurt was actually upset or not?

'_i guess i can come get u around 8 or 9, if thats ok but u rly dont have 2 come'_

'_Do you want me to be there or not?'_

'_i want u 2 b there if you will enjoy urself and have fun not if youre doing it 2 prove a point or be passive aggressive' _

'_I'm not, I promise. Now can I come along, please?' _

'_of course.'_

'_Good. I've gotta go for a bit, see you later.'_

And then he logged off.

And Dave spent the rest of evening trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

* * *

><p>"I have no idea why you're asking me, anyway. Hummel has always been whinier than a 14 year old girl. Maybe it was just his time of the month."<p>

"Kurt has ladytimes too?"

"No, Brittany, it was just a figure of speech."

Dave sighed as Santana continued to try to explain her meaning to Brittany in the rather small backseat of his truck. He tuned out completely, cursing himself for ever thinking that they could be of any help. Anyway, whatever was bothering Kurt would no doubt come to light that evening while they spent copious amounts of time with each other. Dave wanted to be excited about the prospect of this, but all he could really do was dread how everything would pan out.

"I think I know why Kurt is upset!" Brittany suddenly announced. Dave and Santana goaded her to continue with intrigued looks (Dave's, from the rearview mirror). "He's probably just mad that you haven't told him you loved him yet."

Dave risked the danger in turning to glare over his shoulder at Santana.

"Tana, what the fuck."

"Calm your man-tits, Karofsky, Britts can keep a secret."

"You should never keep something like that a secret," Brittany said. "What if you or Kurt dies tomorrow and you never told him how you felt?"

Dave scoffed. "Well, if _I'm_ dead it won't make much of a difference, will it?"

"Oh yes it will!" Brittany insisted. "Then you'll have to watch Kurt from heaven as he lives the rest of his life never knowing how you felt about him."

Dave smiled a little, hoping neither of the girls would see it.

"You think I'm going to heaven, Brittany?"

"Of course you are. Even angels make mistakes and behave badly sometimes. I know because I'm sure Lord Tubbington is an angel and he sometimes poops outside of his litter box and scratches up the furniture. Besides, you've been like an angel to Santana since you became friends, so I don't see why you wouldn't be allowed in. Of course, you won't get wings right away. I takes a while for an angel to earn those."

"I know. First, I've got to be able to convince George Bailey that Bedford Falls would have been a terrible place without him."

Santana laughed and Brittany just blinked.

"No, Clarence already did that."

It was about that time that Dave was pulling up and parking at the front curb of the Hudson-Hummel household, so he was able to safely turn around and give Brittany a pat on the arm.

"I'm just messing with you, Pierce."

As he got out to go up and ring the doorbell, he ignored Santana's wolf whistle and subsequent holler of, "Whoo, go Dave! Charm the fuck out of him!"

'Goddamn, I hope he didn't hear that.'

That particular fear soon flew out the window when he actually rang the doorbell, remembering that it was quite possible Burt Hummel could answer and who knew what would go down then. Did he even know his son was hanging out with his former tormentor, much less letting said tormentor take him to a _gay bar_?

Thankfully, it was Kurt that came to the door instead- looking particularly hot, if Dave was totally honest. He had on some kind of white dress shirt with a grey vest, tight black pants and those fucking hot-as-hell black boots that went up to the knee. He could tell already that he was going to have a hard time keeping his eyes averted tonight.

"Hey," Kurt greeted him flatly, already brushing past him and heading on his way towards the truck.

"Uh…hey…" Dave answered, taken back once more at his strange behavior.

He took notice of the fact that Kurt was struggling somewhat to shrug himself into his black peacoat, so Dave stopped him and proceeded to give him a hand.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, trying to keep his cool as his hands glided past Kurt's upper arms and shoulders in his effort to get the coat on.

"Everything's absolutely fine, Dave. I really wish you wouldn't be so paranoid."

Dave may have been slow up on the uptake when it came to social cues, but even _he _knew Kurt was far from being _absolutely fine_.

Santana seemed to think as much too, because when Kurt sort of threw himself into the passenger seat and halfheartedly greeted her and Brittany, she sent Dave a look that basically communicated something was definitely rotten in Denmark and that he'd better be extra sweet to Kurt tonight.

He hoped a sufficient amount of alcohol might take care of things where he couldn't.

* * *

><p>When they arrived and successfully got past George (the bouncer, with whom Dave had already become friends) with their ridiculously fake IDs, Santana and Brittany immediately peeled off to go and try to convince some of the patrons that they were guys in drag.<p>

No, Dave didn't approve of the idea one bit, but it was a hell of a lot better than their earlier plan to try to actually dress up as gay guys and see who they could fool. He had vetoed that idea pretty much the moment it had occurred to Santana and warned her that if they did it, he would get George to make them stay outside in the cold. She had whined, as per usual, but gave in.

Kurt, on the other hand, seemed to make a mad dash for the bar. When his first order was a shot of tequila, Dave knew he was going to have to keep him on a short leash tonight.

And damn him for the mental images that phrase conjured.

"Hey, man, why don't you slow down a little?" Dave asked light heartedly when Kurt downed the first and demanded another.

"Why?" he snapped back. "Isn't this New Year's Eve? Isn't this a sleazy bar? What am I _supposed _to do, Karofsky, not drink?"

Dave recoiled a little. Normally, he wouldn't have even blinked at being called _Karofsky. _Sometimes, he suspected, people forgot altogether that he even had a first name.

But not Kurt. Kurt hadn't called him that since the bullying officially stopped, which was more than a year ago at this point. His insistent use of 'David' or 'Dave' or the affectionate 'Yogi' meant a lot to him, because it suggested that someone thought of him as something more than just the big dumb jock.

So the fact that Kurt was suddenly putting this moniker to use again deeply troubled him.

Dave put his hand over the re-filled shot glass and pulled it away before Kurt could finish that round too.

"Seriously, dude, enough of this," he said firmly. "What is going on with you? And please don't give me a shit answer."

Kurt narrowed his piercing blue eyes at him, causing his heart to flutter slightly in a mixture of fear and utter, pathetic adoration.

"You wanna know, Dave? You wanna know what the _fuck _is wrong with me?"

"Uh…yeah, I believe that's what I just said."

"I got rejected, that's what. My Dad had been hiding the letter from NYADA from me in the hopes that it wouldn't ruin my holiday, but I found it and I now I know, for sure, that I'll never be going to New York. I'm going to be stuck in this hick town for the rest of my life, so I might as well start learning to act like all the rest of the pathetic, closeted gays in here and just drink my fallen dreams away, right?"

Dave was struck silent. His comment about hanging out in bars during college, which at the time seemed funny, was now just inescapably stupid. How could he have fucked up so easily?

"Kurt…I'm sorry-"

"I didn't even get an audition…" Kurt continued, the tears welling up in eyes more than evident. "Not an interview, not anything, just a flat-out _no_."

"Maybe I should take you home…" Dave offered, at a complete loss of anything else to do. "We don't have to be-"

"No! I'm _not _going to spend another night wallowing in self-pity about this alone in my room. I'm going to get completely and utterly soused, I'm going to grind against some crotches and _for one night _I'm going to act like nothing is wrong. Tonight, I'm not a hopeless loser with no future, just a drunken idiot with no self-respect."

He then took the shot glass back, finished what was left, and headed out onto the dance floor where he immediately began his crotch-grinding.

Dave, on the other hand, didn't know what the hell to do aside from just follow his emotionally-wrecked friend around for the night and make sure he didn't get into any trouble. This he did, having to grind against a few crotches himself in order to remain inconspicuous. And here he had been, thinking he was actually going to enjoy himself tonight- with the guy he liked, no less.

So much for that.

This continued for the better part of an hour or so before he saw Santana again. She grabbed his arm the moment he had come to the bar for a beer break.

"Do _you _happen to know what triangle-brows is doing here?" she whispered rather frantically.

He whipped his head in the direction she was pointing to see that Blaine Anderson was, in fact, in the bar with them. But Kurt, he noticed, was on the other side of the room, still dirty-dancing against random men and otherwise completely oblivious to his boyfriend's presence. Blaine seemed to be equally unawares, as he was currently on his way to what was vaguely referred to as _the back rooms _(understood as the in-bar hook up locale), with a shit-eating grin on his face.

In that moment, Dave's suspicions were confirmed and it couldn't have come at a worse time.

"Can you watch Kurt? He doesn't seem to know hair-gel is here, so try to keep it that way." He muttered back.

Santana sighed dramatically before agreeing to do so, and once he got that confirmation from her Dave didn't waste any time.

He had Blaine by the collar and upper arm quicker than either of them realized, and was tossing him out the back door with him just as swiftly.

When the dust settled and the two were able to get a good enough look at each other, Blaine just stared and breathed heavily.

"Karofsky…?" he asked, somewhere between disbelief and disgust. "What are you-"

"Don't even go there. This isn't about me, this is about you and your very drunk, depressed boyfriend back in the bar who can't seem to figure out why he's being treated like utter shit."

Blaine's face suddenly went white.

"Wait, what? Kurt's inside?"

"He damn well is. There wouldn't be a problem with that, would there?"

Dave glared at him, daring the little uppity shit to confess what he already knew. Instead, Blaine just glared back, though his obvious fear somewhat lessened his effort to be intimidating- sort of like when a cat arches it's back and hisses.

"Look…this is between me and Kurt."

Dave laughed and shook his head.

"It would be fucking nice if that were true, wouldn't it? But it's not. See, Anderson, when you start fucking people behind the back of someone like Kurt, you're not just hurting him- you're hurting all of the people who actually give a shit about him, too. I've had to deal with the fall out of your fuckery for awhile now, but if you think I'm just going to sit around and watch you make a fool out of him then you clearly don't know me from a hole in the ground."

Blaine narrowed his eyes and walked up closer, as if trying to continually show that he wasn't afraid (and failing miserably, as far as Dave as concerned).

"What is this?" he growled in a near whisper. "This _thing…_whatever it is, between you and Kurt. Is this some effort on your part to try to make up for what you did to him? Are you trying to compensate for the fact that you can't publicly own who you are by hanging out with someone like him? Is this supposed to make it all better or something?"

Dave grit his jaw shut, clinging desperately to the anger management techniques his therapist taught him.

"Don't turn this around. You're the one who's obviously fucking that Sebastian guy and god knows who else behind his back."

"And _you're _the one who made him transfer schools!" Blaine shouted. "You're the one who threatened to kill him! Who are you to preach to _me_?"

He wanted to punch him. He wanted to hurt Blaine Anderson so very bad in that moment. But instead he remained, fists clenched so tight he swore his nails were starting to break the skin of his palms.

"Alright," Dave managed, trying to keep his tears at bay. "So we're both terrible people. But at least I had the balls to admit to him I was wrong. He still thinks you're his fucking heaven sent miracle, the only thing that fucking makes him worthwhile. He thinks that about _you_, Anderson. Now if that doesn't churn your guts even a little bit, then I'll be happy to make them do it for you. Me? I'm just this fat, hopeless loser he felt like forgiving. I've been so lucky to able to call him my friend, too, but at least I've never set himself up for disappointment. At least I've never been so fucking self-absorbed as to make him think he could expect more out of me than a big dumb closeted jock."

Blaine seemed to falter, as if remembering his guilt fully. His defensiveness abandoned, he proceeded to lean against the outside brick wall of the bar.

"I didn't want to hurt him," he said softly. "I never wanted to do that. This…this thing that started with Sebastian…I don't know, it hit me like a ton of bricks and once I started I couldn't stop…it was never about Kurt."

Dave found himself easing ever so slowly out of his building contempt, but it didn't stop him from making one last snap at Blaine.

"Of course it wasn't about Kurt. If it was ever about him you wouldn't have started to begin with."

Surprisingly, Blaine just nodded without complaint.

"Now, I just don't know what to do."

"Well, I'll tell you what you do. You tell Kurt everything and then you explain to him he deserves so much better and then you let him go find someone who can give that to him."

Blaine looked up at Dave then, his expression having changed from sad and resigned to puzzled and suspicious.

"Honestly, though, why do you care so much about this?" he asked. "This can't all just be one effort to make things up to him for your past history…"

Dave said nothing and avoided eye contact, but this alone was more telling than anything else could have been.

Suddenly Blaine inhaled sharply.

"Oh…you're in love with him."

It was something he knew quite well, sure, but to hear someone say it out loud was almost like getting a punch of reality to the face. In fact, he wasn't sure _he _had ever even admitted to himself out loud- it was just something that he had been aware of for quite a while now. Maybe he never voiced it, even to himself, because he knew how utterly futile and inconsequential it was. What was the point of being in love with someone he was not remotely worthy of? Brittany might argue that love is important and never frivolous, even if the other person doesn't feel the same way, but Dave couldn't say he entirely agreed with her logic. It still hurt like hell either way.

"Have you told him yet?" Blaine asked in a near-whisper.

"He's hopelessly in love with _you_ and, like you said, I'm the guy who made his life a living hell. What do you think?"

"You should tell him anyway. He deserves to know."

Dave was about to rally back at him the question of 'when did you become so concerned with what Kurt deserves?' when the back door of the bar suddenly opened, completely cutting him off.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sebastian walked out. Followed by a stumbling Kurt.

"David?" Kurt said bewilderedly, his eyes darting frantically between the two of them. "_Blaine_?"

Blaine gasped, obviously in a similar state of panic. "I…I can explain everything, I promise."

"You were supposed to be in Indiana, Blaine," Kurt pointed out, his surprise slowly morphing into subtle rage. "You were supposed to be in Indiana with relatives. This doesn't fucking look like Indiana to me. What the hell are you doing here with _him_?"

Kurt, of course, meant Sebastian who continued to watch the scene unfold with amusement.

Dave was completely and wholly frozen in place, not sure what to say or do or if doing so would even help anything. He instead chose to keep quiet and wait for the inevitable moment when he would have to run to Kurt's aid.

Blaine must have sent Sebastian a pleading look that Dave couldn't see, because it was at that moment that he spoke up.

"I'd like to point out that I'm doing this for everyone's sake. The sooner we get this matter over with, the better."

"Who the fuck are you decide that?" Dave said, not being shy about getting up into Sebastian's smarmy face. "This was none of your goddamn business."

"It's probably no more your _goddamn business _than it is mine, Karofsky, but that certainly hasn't stopped you."

Blaine and Kurt were both a bit taken back that they seemed to know each other, but it was the latter of the two that reacted to this by pulling Dave back to face him.

"You _knew _about this?" he asked incredulously, seemingly having already made up his mind that Dave did. "You knew about this and you didn't tell me? Why?"

"What? No! You have to believe me when I tell you that I _just _found out about this."

Kurt wasn't convinced in the slightest. He sent everyone present a tearful glare before darting rather drunkenly back inside the bar. Dave followed, completely apathetic to Blaine and Sebastian.

* * *

><p>Santana had been properly apologetic for losing Kurt so easily, but that certainly wasn't going to help Dave out now as he drove with her and Brittany slowly down the road back to Lima, searching through the darkness for any sign of him. They only had George's word to go on at this point, which was that Kurt had fled the bar completely.<p>

"Try calling his cell phone again," Dave said to either girl who would.

Brittany did so, announcing not long after that she was still only getting voicemail.

It was around that time that Santana, who was sitting in the passenger's seat, turned ever so slightly to him and whispered in her secretively sincere tone of voice,

"Dave, I'm so sorry."

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for losing Kurt or expressing her regret for the fact that this entire evening had blown up in his face. Perhaps it was both of those things.

Either way, he didn't want to let her think that he held any disdain towards her for what had happened, so he squeezed her hand quickly in reassurance and continued scanning the pitch black road.

They continued onward an uncomfortably long amount of time with no indication of him whatsoever, until Brittany finally spotted something on the side of the road. Had it been even 10 minutes earlier, Dave might have disregarded this as her having just spotted a dead animal or something of the like, but his desperation had reached a crisis point, so he put the truck in park and clambered out of it without even turning off the engine.

Thankfully, he didn't have to go far off the road. The distinct image of Kurt lying sprawled out in the grass, illuminated by his headlights, was made clearer the closer he got.

"Oh fuck," he cursed, collapsing on to his knees beside him to make sure he was only passed out and nothing more. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

As soon as the vital signs had been determined to be operational, Dave hoisted Kurt up into his arms and set back towards the truck. The sheer adrenaline pumping through him kept any fatigue at bay, though he was sure he'd be feeling the residual ache from tonight's activity in the morning.

"Is he dead?" Brittany asked almost the moment Dave opened the door to the passenger side and laid Kurt down beside her.

"No, Britt, he's not dead, but thanks for asking."

The two of them then set to work trying to get him to wake up, patting his face and gently shaking him, while Santana brought up an excellent point.

"Fuck, maybe we should take him to the emergency room. What if he hit his head or something?"

"Let's get him to my place," Dave said decisively. "My sister's a nurse and she hasn't gone back home yet."

Brittany and Santana didn't argue with this as Dave left Kurt in the back for Brittany to continue to try to revive and he returned to the driver's seat to get them back into town as quickly as possible.

* * *

><p>Kurt had jostled awake about halfway to Dave's house, still drunk and furious as ever, but thankfully not hurt.<p>

Dave still had Natasha look him over, just to confirm that he hadn't harmed himself in any way on his very soused attempt to walk home. When she had determined that he hadn't, Santana and Brittany got another ride home and wished Dave the best of luck with however things turned out.

Kurt, on the other hand, was staunchly refusing to speak to him at all. Any correspondence on his part was sent through Natasha, and so it was she he informed that he wanted to be taken home.

Natasha laughed.

"Honey, do you really want your parents to see you like this?"

Even in his drunken state, Kurt was able to rethink his abrupt decision.

"Well, where am I supposed to go? I'm _not_ staying here with him," he said, pointing accusingly at Dave.

"Why not?" Natasha asked, perplexed.

"Because he _knew _my boyfriend was screwing someone else behind my back and he said _nothing_!"

"Dude!" Dave exclaimed. "I didn't know until five minutes before that Sebastian asshole sent you out there! I was out there giving your precious boyfriend a piece of my mind."

Kurt sent him a glare that would have made him immediately drop if looks could actually kill, but before he could potentially say anything, Natasha intervened.

"Boys! Let's just calm down for a second, yeah? Kurt, I honestly don't think it's a good idea for you to go home like this and Dave doesn't really look like he's in a good state to drive. How about I call your Dad and ask him if it's alright if you spend the night here? I'll just tell him you and Dave wanted to hang out."

"Fine," Kurt conceded. "But I'm not actually going to hang out with _him_."

Dave scoffed. "Yeah, well somebody's got to show you to your room and I'd hate to see you tumbling down the stairs, so you're going to have to deal with me for a little while longer."

Before Kurt could protest at all, Dave had picked him once more and begun carting him up the staircase to the second floor guestroom.

"I could have slept on the couch!" Kurt shrieked, wiggling far too dangerously.

"Would you stop already? You're going to kill us both."

"Not if you break my fall, fat ass."

Dave grit his teeth from both the weight and the pain of Kurt's choice of words, so when they finally reached said bedroom, it was perhaps no accident that he flopped him down on the mattress with less care than he probably would have otherwise.

"Look," Dave said, cutting off whatever Kurt was planning to spew at him next. "I know I've hurt you. I know I haven't given you everything you deserved or wanted in the past, but does it not matter one fucking bit that I've been trying _so hard _to make it up to you? To show you that I'm not just a dumb asshole? See, here I was thinking it all meant something and then the moment it even looks like I've fucked up you just assume that I have without even hearing my side of the story. Again, you say you've forgiven me but I don't think you really have and I'd rather you just be honest with yourself and me and admit that somewhere deep down you still think I'm just going to fuck you over."

Kurt was silent, staring at him with wide, bloodshot eyes.

"Whatever," Dave sighed. "I'm not kidding anybody. You don't owe me anything, much less that. I guess sometimes there are things you just can't fix. Sorry, Kurt. Just go to bed and then you can leave and we don't have to see each other again. This was a stupid mistake anyway."

And with that, Dave exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving Kurt completely speechless.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **So guess who updated this friggin' story? Yes, I realize it's been a year and a half since the last update...and I'm _so _sorry for those of you that had gotten used to my regular updates that year and a half ago- and, of course, for those of you who have legitimately enjoyed this and have wanted a satisfying ending. I have to admit that I went through a rather lengthy period of time believing my days for writing Glee were over, but thanks to some lively role-playing and fic reading, I found my muse again for this story enough to write something that might make a suitable conclusion. When I originally started this story, I'm fairly sure I planned to cover the _whole _of Kurt's senior year, but as I wrote this chapter, it more or less drew to a close on it's own. I have, however, considered writing an epilogue/conclusion-ary chapter if folks really feel like there needs to be a better denouement. If you'd like something more final, be sure to let me know and I'll see what I can do about an end follow up. In the meantime, I hope this chapter makes up for all the time lost- and considering that it gets _pretty steamy_ I should think that it does. **So be warned that this chapter is NSFW and has upped the story's rating to an M.** Included are sexual situations between teenagers -nothing penetrative or even oral, but still sexual- so please be aware.

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine. Would've been better if it was, though that's not saying much.

* * *

><p>Dave woke up the next morning to the softest pitter-pat of a knock on his bedroom door. How <em>that<em> had successfully woken him, one of the heaviest sleepers in the world, he would never really know.

That is, until he asked who it was and the meek voice that answered back was undeniably Kurt's.

He quickly scrambled to put on a t-shirt, assured himself his boxers were coverage enough for someone who was coming into his bedroom right when he had woken up –as well as the fact that his room really wasn't _that_ messy- and opened the door.

"Good morning!" Kurt greeted with tentative enthusiasm. "I…didn't wake you up…did I?"

Dave stifled a yawn because he sure his morning breath would be killer. "Well, just a little. It was kind of a long night last night."

This was confirmed by the sheer ache of every muscle in his body when he tried to move. Kurt, on the other hand, looked unrealistically good for someone who had gone to bed completely drunk and distraught.

"Sorry, I just really want to talk to you about what happened last night and I was tired of waiting for you to show up downstairs. May I come in?"

Dave gingerly stepped aside, admittedly giddy at the idea of having Kurt his room but not so much the fact that he would have to see that it looked like a tornado of dirty laundry hit it.

Kurt didn't seem concerned with any of this in the slightest, or if he was, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it. He promptly sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned for Dave to join him.

"I'm already aware of how cruel I was to you last night," he said in a near whisper. "I could blame it all on the alcohol and pretend that I didn't remember doing any of it, but I've had that done to me before and I know how it feels, so I won't return the favor. I just wanted to formally tell you that I'm sorry."

Dave knew full-well this apology was coming. Kurt fancied himself a forgiving, rational person, after all, so it would make sense that in the cold, sober light of day he would once more put on those airs. It wasn't polite to turn it down, and he knew that a more reasonable person would just accept it at face value, but Dave was utterly tired of the bullshit.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and leaned up against his headboard.

"No you're not." He said simply.

Kurt just stared at him a moment, incredulously. "Wait, what?"

"You're not sorry- not for the fact that you assumed I already knew about Blaine and had just been lying to you. If we're totally honest with each other here, which I think we should be, you've been waiting this whole time for me to fuck up and hurt you somehow. Haven't you?"

Kurt sort of gaped, as if trying to search for something to rally back but was coming up dry.

"I mean, it's not like I blame you. I treated you like shit for the better part of a year. Hell, I threatened to kill you and I made you transfer schools. It's fine that you don't trust me. It makes all the sense in the world. I just wish you would admit to yourself."

"David…" Kurt sighed, staring at the rumpled bed cover. "That's really not what it's about. I was upset…and drunk…and just an all around hot mess. My instinct, flawed as it was, was to put the blame of betrayal on you more than anyone because yours would have been the only one that surprised me."

Dave had to do a double-take.

"Wait, what do you mean? The fact that Blaine has actually been seeing Sebastian wasn't news to you?"

Kurt shook his head and smiled sadly.

"I'm not an idiot. I know what it means when someone retreats from a relationship randomly and then just as sporadically comes back in and completely overcompensates for seemingly no reason at all. I was seeing how long I could delude myself about it, just like I've been doing with everything in my life lately."

The sudden moment of clarity caught them both a bit off-guard, so they were silent as the reality of the situation sank in.

"This whole school year has been absolutely ridiculous," he continued. "…and I have no one to blame for that but myself. I don't know why, but I thought maybe things would be different this time. Maybe, instead of everything utterly sucking like it always has, the universe would grant me the very generous gift of having an amazing Senior year where everything just went the way I wanted it to. I'd get to go to New York, I'd get the lead role in the last high school play, I'd have an amazing relationship with a perfect boyfriend…I guess when all of those other things just crashed and burned I held onto Blaine for dear life. He was supposed to salvage everything, somehow. Our relationship was my…consolation prize, I guess. But when I woke up this morning, I realized that our relationship is over. I may not have formally broken up with him yet, but it's as good as over for both of us and…I don't feel anything. I'm not sad, I'm not devastated, I'm just…neutral, somehow. I mean…I don't know, I always thought if anything ever broke us up it would be dramatic and sad and tragic, but it's not. At all."

"Maybe you're relieved," Dave offered. "And you feel guilty for it, so you've managed to repress it."

Kurt nodded. "That could certainly be it. I don't know. I'm beginning to think I'm not as in touch with my emotions as I thought I was."

He then looked up at Dave after a brief moment of silence had passed.

"So do you forgive me for last night?"

"Yeah…of course. But you know, Kurt, I have to be totally honest about something here. I think you've set your standards for this year way too fucking high."

Kurt giggled. "But it was my Senior year! Am I not entitled to everything simply because it's my last year of high school?"

"Uh, no?" Dave chuckled. "What gave you that idea in the first place? It's still high school. It still sucks."

"Are you suggesting that your idea to just _get through _high school is somehow better than mine?" Kurt asked with feigned incredulity.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, here I am, no worse or better off than I was when this year started…well, maybe a little better off, actually. And then there's you, who's had everything crumble around him like the fucking Berlin Wall. What do you think I'm suggesting?"

Kurt grinned to himself and nodded.

"Anyway," Dave continued. "You don't need all of that. The Kurt Hummel I've always known wouldn't rely on other people to get what he wants. He would have just said 'fuck it', and made his own way of things. Don't you think?"

Kurt suddenly looked at him then, fixedly, his eyes seemingly welling up with tears. Dave was rather intimidated by this -considering especially that nothing he had said to him then seemed especially poetic or touching- until Kurt took his hand and held it tightly.

"Yeah, I do."

He then allowed himself to crawl beside Dave on the bed and lie down, still clutching their hands together.

"Thank you for believing in me," he whispered, cuddling close to Dave's arm.

Truthfully, Dave didn't quite know how to react to this, already feeling rather tense from having Kurt so close to him. He decided, instead, to make an effort to relax into the moment, however futile it might have been.

"I just realized it's the New Year," Kurt mentioned quietly into the silence. "Funny, how I thought I'd have someone to kiss at midnight this time."

Dave squeezed his hand, which he had already noticed was lean and smooth, but nowhere near as delicate and fragile as he thought it would be.

"Yeah, you were a bit too drunk for that."

"Also my boyfriend was likely kissing someone else."

"Well…there's that."

Kurt then propped himself up on his elbow, turning to look at Dave squarely. The latter of the two of them avoided eye contact.

"Is there any chance I could get my New Year's kiss from you?"

Dave's eyes widened. "Wha- me? No- I mean…I've already taken one from you, haven't I?" He could feel himself starting to disgustingly perspire.

Completely composed, Kurt cupped his cheek. "Then let me take it back."

And with that, their lips were suddenly meeting and Dave could see stars bursting behind his eyes while strings of heat coursed down to his toes and churned in his stomach. It may not have been their first, but it certainly felt like it was, given the fact that it was slow and leisurely and completely consensual.

Though at first unable to move, Dave finally found the will-power to bring his opposite hand to the back of Kurt's head, carding fingers through his unbelievably silky locks. For a split second he wondered if Kurt would mind him messing up his hair like that, but when their kiss suddenly deepened and it seemed as if the boy above him was seeking more, he couldn't care less either way- not about that, and not about the possibility that his breath was possibly vile.

When they finally pulled apart, it became clear that Kurt didn't really care whether Dave had brushed his teeth or not yet, as he was smiling rather disbelievingly and sighing in awe.

Dave's hand slid from the back of Kurt's head to his cheek.

"What just happened?" he asked, genuinely curious though his voice was misty with intimacy.

Kurt sighed again, their mouths only slightly less close than they had been.

"It would seem that I've kissed you…for the New Year."

It was added as an afterthought, but it was no less a necessary return-to-reality for both of them.

"Right. For the New Year. Thanks, Kurt."

Dave then took his hand away and rose from the bed.

"So, I should probably get dressed," he said decisively, trying his best to shake off what had just transpired. "And then I can drive you home."

Though he may have tried, he could not for the life of him avoid seeing Kurt looking neglected and awe-struck, still in a semi-lounge on his bed. Admittedly, it was not an optimum situation for either of them.

"Right? Don't you think you better get home?"

Kurt nodded slowly and looked down -seemingly with confusion- at the mattress before rising from Dave's bed and making his way to the door.

"Right, of course. Sorry."

The two looked at one another a moment before Kurt closed the door behind him, and Dave knew in that instance that it was not only he who had felt something when they kissed.

* * *

><p>To say things were awkward after this kiss would be just about accurate, if not a bit of an understatement. On the drive home immediately after, neither of them said a word- and it certainly wasn't in companionable, comfortable silence, either, but much the opposite. They were both aware of the conversation sitting impatiently between them that they <em>weren't <em>having, but neither of them could find the strength or the will-power to even acknowledge it.

They didn't ignore each other in the days afterward, but correspondence was limited and brief. Dave supposed he had hoped that maybe, eventually, Kurt would move on from what had happened New Year's Day on his bed and then he could too…or at least pretend that he had. But even he could read the tension in the few short texts and IMs he would get from Kurt every couple of days. They _always _asked him how he was. Dave would give a short answer, something neutral, ask Kurt the same, and then let him do the talking before the conversation would dissipate.

It was terrible, if he was honest, probably worse than the time they had stopped speaking to each other altogether.

January went by anyway in its usual dull, grey haze. Dave tried to convince himself that it was just the low point of winter, when the snow and the cold had lost all novelty and school seemed to drag on forever. He didn't let himself consider the possibility that it might be because he was losing a friend…maybe, potentially, something more. He never really wanted to let himself think of Kurt in terms of anything beyond friendship because he was convinced that'd only end in disappointment and heartbreak for him…but that _fucking kiss_. Not the one in the locker room, the one that Kurt had instigated. What was he supposed to do with that?

He didn't know. And to be truthful, he didn't really have the balls to ask.

January was drawing to a close when he made the fateful wander into the Lima Bean. Why he hadn't chosen another coffee joint he really didn't know. Sure, it was quiet, a good place to study and one of the only options in town aside from Starbucks, but _everyone _went there, especially Kurt Hummel. As it so happened, they seemed to have the same idea that evening, as their eyes met the moment Dave walked in.

So escaping was a non-option. _Great._

Kurt didn't seem at all keen to make a break for it, however. Instead he smiled warmly, disbelievingly, closed his laptop and gestured for Dave to take the seat opposite him. What could Dave do, really, but accept?

"We didn't have an agreement to meet here, did we?" Kurt teased slightly, a twinge of hopefulness in his tone that Dave chose to ignore as he grudgingly sat down. "This _does _seem like a bit of serendipity to me."

Dave didn't know what he meant by that, but he supposed it didn't really matter, either.

"No…not that I remember. I was planning to study."

He indicated as much by lifting his book bag slightly before letting it hang back on the chair. Kurt's face fell a little in a way that was impossible to ignore- of course, anything Kurt did was impossible to ignore, that had always been truer for Dave than anything else.

"I don't suppose you could take a moment to talk?" Kurt pressed. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

Dave hoped his reluctance wasn't obvious, but he knew better than to think he could be so subtle. There was a war within him –what else was new?- of an inability to decide whether to favor his indulgent need to take this opportunity to spend time with Kurt or continue to push him away. Pushing was safe. Pushing could put them back on a level that was comfortable and easy for them, the mutual dislike that was palatable…even if Dave had never really disliked Kurt at all.

But not even his masochism could prompt him to do what he had decided was the most responsible thing.

So he answered with a resigned, "Yeah, sure," and slumped a little in his seat.

He should have known Kurt was going to ask the next question.

"How are you?"

He sighed, because it was so much like their text messages and IMs, lately: awkward, dismissive, insincere.

"I'm fine, Kurt, I'm fine," he insisted, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. "Just as fine as I was the last few hundred times you asked."

He hadn't meant for it to sound so abrupt or harsh and kind of regretted saying it the way he did the moment it happened. Worse still, Kurt didn't look just mildly offended or perturbed, he seemed…_hurt_. And Dave couldn't help but hate himself for hurting him _again_.

"I think…we've been ignoring something very important, here," Kurt said carefully after a time. "And I also think…it might be time for us to acknowledge it."

"We really don't need to-"

"_David_," Kurt interjected, his tone firm to communicate that there would be no argument. "I refuse to do this anymore with you. It's not fair to either of us."

"Well, neither was kissing me."

It came out instantly- word vomit, at its finest, and even though he had muttered it under his breath, none of it was lost on Kurt. Once again, Dave regretted saying it the moment it fell out of his mouth.

When Kurt pursed his lips and set his jaw against its quivering, he knew he was in trouble.

"Outside. Now."

Dave didn't argue anymore. He had lost the right to the moment he brought up the kiss, as far as he was concerned, and after they had both picked up their things he followed Kurt dutifully, silently out the door.

Kurt kept his silence as he climbed into his Escalade and part of Dave thought he was just going to drive away and why the hell had that involved him having to come outside in the first place? But instead he unlocked the doors and waited for Dave to make the assumption he wanted him in the passenger seat.

They didn't go far, just a little ways down the shopping center, behind the abandoned department store building. Dave could still get out and walk away if he wanted to, but Kurt must have known his reluctance to do so in the blistering cold and snow. Besides…he needed to talk. They _both _needed to talk.

Kurt shifted to park, but left the SUV running and the both of them sitting there in the blast of the hot air from the heater and the very uncomfortable silence.

Until…

"I'm still going to New York in the fall," Kurt said finally, his voice surprisingly level for how upset he had looked in the Lima Bean. "I'm going to work…take some basic courses, try again for NYADA next year…"

Dave furrowed his brows, confused, but not enough to ask for any sort of clarification for why Kurt was bringing this up now.

"Because of that, you have to understand why this is problematic," he continued. "Why I _didn't _want to talk about the kiss and what it meant. I wasn't convinced Blaine and I were going to make it through my move and we had been dating for-"

The mention of _that_ name and the New Year's kiss in one breath set Dave aflame enough to speak up.

"Then why did you do it?" he interjected, looking over at Kurt and demanding an answer, as if he had any right to demand anything from him. "If it was going to be this fucking complicated, why did you kiss me at all?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes and, fuck, sometimes he could scare Dave with just a look. This was one of them.

"Why did _you _kiss _me_?" he fired back, venomously.

Of course, even Dave knew they were talking about two different kisses and he also knew Kurt had every right to throw that back in his face, especially if he was doing the exact same thing back at him. It wasn't fair. And this wasn't a conversation at all, this was a stand-off and Dave had a distinct feeling no one was going to be coming out of it feeling very victorious.

"I'm not doing this right now," Dave muttered, fumbling with the door handle to escape in the exact same way both of them knew would be abhorrent for him. "I _can't _do this right now-"

"Like hell you can't!"

Kurt grabbed Dave's wrist tighter than he was ever aware he was capable of. Surely the intent was just an angered, impulsive motion to keep him from escaping and starting another wave of awkward conversations and dodged topics, but when Dave pivoted angrily and brought them both together, practically snarling at each other over the center console, the results were probably much more than either of them had bargained for.

And neither of them really seemed to care, not as Dave yanked Kurt by his hold on him in close and pressed their lips together hungrily. He wasn't even really sure what he was doing. His instinct was working faster than his rational brain ever could and this seemed to be true of Kurt as well, considering the possessive, demanding way his hand had shifted up and fisted into Dave's hair.

Almost as soon as they had started, Kurt pulled away and Dave felt certain he was going to put an end to things. Instead, he said with a flushed face and smoldering eyes filled with want and frustration,

"Back seat."

Even if a rush of intimidation and nervousness filled him then –knowing full-well what teenagers did in the backs of cars- Dave didn't argue. He realized the full extent of how much he _wanted _Kurt and at that point in time, it was more than enough to get him to walk around to the side door and climb in.

Kurt yanked him inside almost the moment he had closed the car door behind him, pulling him on top of him and back into the passionate kiss they had started earlier. If there was only fury and frustration in _that_ kiss, there was certainly something more tender and emotional in this one- and wasn't it strange how their relationship, their _whatever this was_, could be so defined by kisses?

Dave found his hand wandering to the back of Kurt's thigh, coaxing it up and around his waist and Kurt was more than willing to oblige. He had never made-out before and he hoped to god it didn't show, even as he was taking risks and at least _trying _to seem like he had a clue what he was doing.

He then pulled off Kurt's scarf in order to pepper nectarous kisses down the smooth column of his neck. Just as he was wondering if Kurt would mind terribly having said scarf thrown to the wayside, he began to make the most delicious soft moans Dave had ever heard and the scarf, as well as the concern, was quickly forgotten.

Dave had always muted porn for the sole purpose of not wanting to hear the mouthy bottoms, but Kurt's sounds of pleasure threw all of that out the window. The very sound of his voice crying out like that, because of things _he _was doing, no less, might have been enough to throw him over the edge the completely.

Or so he thought, until Kurt's hands shifted up the sides of his back to his shoulders and he keened gently, "David…"

Dave had a lot of names he didn't like, admittedly. Karofsky was one of them and David, given that only his parents and older family members had called him that up to this point, was another. But ever since Kurt had taken to favoring it, it was nothing less than music to his ears- and especially now when he was saying it in the throes of pleasure.

"Oh god, Kurt…" he whispered back into the warm softness of his skin.

Kurt coaxed Dave back upwards to his lips and proceeded to wrap both legs around his torso, bucking upward slightly as he licked into his mouth. He was momentarily caught between the feel of Kurt's tongue in his mouth and the very obvious definition of his erection pressing into his own, trying to figure out which one to favor.

He didn't want to push, but there was something he desperately wanted to try and Kurt's apparent need for him was boosting his confidence to potentially dangerous levels.

Running his knuckles down the center of Kurt's stomach, he stopped at the button and fly of his jeans.

"Can I…?" he whispered into his mouth.

Kurt made some sort of whimper that made Dave wince with arousal and then he conceded with a soft, "Please…"

The fact that Kurt was not only agreeing to let Dave touch him there but practically _begging _for it seemed to just worsen the situation for him in the best of ways. He had never felt so close to coming before without even really being touched.

So after undoing the button and zipper, he dipped his hand inside his jeans and under what felt like the waistband of briefs, closing his fingers around the silken, hard, curved shaft and hissing slightly at how wonderful it felt in his grip. It was the first time he had touched a cock- but more importantly, it was the first time he was touching _Kurt_ that way and that seemed to make all the difference in the world.

Kurt's eyes shut tight and he inclined his head and neck backward at the touch, cantering his hips upward in the sure grip of Dave's fist. He whined out his name again as his hands shifted upward to Dave's biceps, squeezing wantonly.

Was he really doing this? Was he really making Kurt come apart at the seams like this? It seemed so.

"Wait, hold on…"

Kurt's voice was breathy and clearly his having said this was a struggle with his own conscious mind to put anything they were doing at a stand-still. Nevertheless, Dave was worried for a split-second that maybe he had changed his mind, maybe he realized this was _Dave Karofsky _he was letting put his hands down his pants and maybe-

But no. Kurt merely shifted them both on their sides so he could get better access to the front of Dave's jeans. He wasn't slow or gradual like Dave had been and that was totally fine- particularly when he had his smooth fingers wrapped around his cock in the same way Dave was doing to him.

"You're big…" Kurt observed with a lick of his lips as he began to stroke him. If Dave had a response to this it was immediately lost in a haze of lust and the soft, warm feel of Kurt's perfect hand working him to his end.

It didn't take long for either of them. A few sure strokes and some sloppy, desperate kisses and both of their hands were soon covered with hot release.

It took Dave a moment to come back down to earth, to carefully remove his messy hand from the front of Kurt's jeans as Kurt did the same to him. He opened his eyes with a sense of hesitation, fully expecting for the disgusted realization on Kurt's part to settle in now.

Instead, however, he was kissed again, slow and lovingly, and then stared at by those blue-green eyes with an unmistakable sense of adoration.

Giggling slightly, Kurt grabbed some wet wipes from somewhere and set to work cleaning them both off. Dave sighed out in a pleased shudder when he gently wiped some excess release from his stomach, just below his navel, and then adjusted his shirt back into place.

"I'm in love with you…" Dave said softly, completely and totally speaking his mind aloud as he watched Kurt finish cleaning.

Kurt looked up at him then, clearly startled by the sudden confession. Dave didn't have it in him to regret saying it.

"You-…"

"I'm in love with you," he repeated, taking a hand and lacing their fingers together.

Kurt bit his lip as his eyes began to water and he continued to stare at Dave still lying there before him.

"Come here…" he coaxed, easing Kurt back down into a lounge beside him. Kurt didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around his waist and nuzzle his head into his shoulder.

"Dammit, I'm in love with you too…" he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't mean to, I swear…"

Dave chuckled.

"_That _I believe. So…can I ask why you're crying during what is turning out to be one of the happiest moments of my life?"

It was a serious question mixed in with an air of teasing and Kurt could tell as much, laughing despite himself into the fabric of Dave's hoodie.

"Because…because I'm still going to New York in September and I…Blaine and I wouldn't have made it through that and-"

"I'm not Blaine."

"I know that, but-…"

"And I'm not gonna ask you to give up New York. Or anything else, for that matter."

Kurt just sniffed into his shoulder for a moment, probably trying to think up something to say. Dave titled his chin gently upwards to look at him.

"Hey…how about this- we just see what happens. It's only January, we've still got awhile…and maybe when it's time for you to go we'll decide it's not gonna work with the distance and call it quits…but if not, we can try and press forward. That way…we'll never have to wonder what-if…and we'll always have this time together, at least. What do you think?"

He didn't really have time to wait for a vocal response because Kurt was launching into him with a loving, grateful kiss. Dave shifted a hand through his hair, needing physical proof that this wasn't a dream.

Pulling back slightly, Kurt whispered between their mouths, "I didn't mean to fall in love with you…but you never give me even a second to wonder why I did."


End file.
